The Leopard's Prey

by Suzanne Arruda

The doctor motioned the nurse forward and instructed her to bring Mr. Featherstone’s effects. She scurried off, her steps hastened by four pairs of stern male eyes on her back, and returned with a bundle of clothes, a pair of boots, and a wooden leg. She dumped the entire assemblage on the foot of the bed and hurried away again after Sam’s particularly frightful scowl.

  “I want to make it clear that your leaving goes against my advisement,” said the doctor.

  “Understood,” said Sam as he pulled on a pair of drawers followed by an undershirt. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful, mind you, but there’s more at stake here than my rest.”

  The doctor fidgeted with Sam’s boot. “If this is the young lady who was here Sunday night, I can certainly understand your desire to assist her. But she seemed a capable young woman. I’m sure she’s in no real danger. Didn’t strike me as the type to just fly off, as you put it.”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “You mistook the statement for something metaphorical, Doctor. I’m speaking literally.” He finished attaching his prosthetic and tugged on his trousers. “She did fly off. And in my airplane.”

  “Oh, dear,” muttered the doctor.

  “And you have no idea,” continued Sam as he buttoned his shirt, “just how much trouble that little green-eyed varmint can get into.” He steadied himself against the back of the chair before sitting down in it. “My boots, if you please.”

  “Let me give you a hand there,” said Neville.

  Sam shook his head. “Thanks, but it’s actually easier to pull it over the leg than have someone push.” He pointed to the sides of the wooden foot, showing where countless rubbings had polished the wood to a fine sheen.

  “Do you have any idea where Jade went?” asked Avery.

  “Probably. If she pulled out my map, she would have found my notes. I’d intended to head west past Naivasha and to the edge of the Maasai reserve. Supposed to be good game there.”

  Neville nodded. “Indeed. Planned to take Maddy there on a holiday. The lake is splendid.”

  “I have my vehicle at hand,” said Avery, “If we can round up some chaps with cars, we can make it there quickly enough to conduct a broad search.”

  “She’s probably at Naivasha waiting for us,” suggested Neville.

  “Maybe,” said Sam. He didn’t sound hopeful. “Who did you have in mind?”

  “There was a dinner last evening,” said Avery. “A reunion of Volunteer Mounted Rifles.”

  “Right,” said Neville. “I saw the notice in the paper. They meet once a month at the Norfolk Hotel.”

  “Do you think they’ll help?” asked Sam.

  “They’d damn well better,” said Avery. “After all, they are, or were, a military unit.”

  “Of sorts,” said Neville, “but strictly volunteer and no one really saw much service. They mainly patrolled the rail lines and some of the fringes of the territory in case of enemy invasion or warring natives.”

  “Then it’s about time they did something to earn their keep,” said Sam. “And we can find someone from that Perkins and Daley company, too.” He stood. “Let’s go.”Avery and Neville flanked Sam to the door. Once outside, Sam leaned against the outer wall.

  “I’m sure Jade’s all right, Sam,” said Neville, trying to sound hopeful.

  “I pray that’s the case,” said Sam, “and if she is and she smashed up my plane, I’ll kill the reckless little minx.”

  CHAPTER 15

  And just what sort of activities would one expect in such an exclusive club?

  They plan and carry out cattle raids, go on lion hunts, and learn the customs

  so that they can become valued elders in their turn.

  —The Traveler

  TAJEWO COULD HAVE loped easily across the grasslands, but Jade was too worn-out from the previous night trying to sleep in a cramped cockpit to keep up for very long. After a few hundred yards, she slowed to a brisk walk, and Tajewo did the same. They traveled in silence. A chunky rock hyrax popped its head up over a red rock and ran back into the shadows. Jade watched a giraffe stride with its languid, liquid grade to an acacia tree. Its long blue-black tongue stretched upward and wrapped itself around a leafy branch, stripping it bare as it retracted into the gaping mouth. A second one joined the first giraffe at the opposite end of the tree.

  Jade took in the high shoulders and sloping back. A fascinating creature, especially when it splayed its forelimbs to drink. There was nothing remotely like this animal in the United States. It was no wonder people wanted to see them in the zoos. Such sights occupied Jade for a while, but finally after a quarter mile, curiosity about Ruta and the Maasai warriors in general won out.

  “Do warriors often leave the kraal like Ruta did?”

  Tajewo kept his eyes on the grasses for any danger, a hidden predator, a sleeping bull who would not appreciate being awakened. “No. A warrior must never eat alone, for this means that a warrior, no matter how poor, will have food.”

  “Then why was Ruta alone?”

  “He was a great warrior. Once, he was throwing his spear to keep his arm strong. A new warrior did not see. He ran in front of him and was killed. His family said my brother did this thing to win a girl. But he did not. They would try to kill him now. It was best that he hide, so he left.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Jade, noticing that Tajewo didn’t speak Ruta’s name. Taboo?

  “Never mind. Engai is still present,” Tajewo replied, invoking the Maasai’s belief in God’s watchfulness.

  “But you are traveling alone now,” Jade observed.

  “I will be back before sunset,” he explained. Tajewo’s own curiosity apparently got the better of him, too, for he began to pepper Jade with questions as they became more comfortable conversing in their blend of Swahili and English with occasional sprinklings of Maa. “My brother’s friend, Bwana Nyati, the man you call Hascombe, told us of you when he came with news of my brother. He said you could shoot a rifle well.” He glanced at her shoulder to indicate that she didn’t carry a rifle now. “You do not hunt anymore?”

  “Only for meat when it is needed,” she said.

  “Then why do you want this kifaru toto? It is not meat.”

  Jade tried her best to explain the concept of zoos and people paying to see animals they had never seen before. She heard him grunt once and wondered if he had experienced something similar in his own life. After all, more safaris seemed to be intent on seeing the “wild natives” and their villages as much as the animals. Ever since the cattle sicknesses had hit the Maasai’s herds, the once feared tribe had been reduced to living in their own reserve, unable to raid for the cattle promised them by Engai, the Maker. To do so would mean the loss of their spears and they’d be unable to defend from lions what herds they had left.

  “There are no kifaru in your land?” he asked her.

  “No. No kifaru and no simba. We have a smaller simba in the mountains.” She held her hand out to indicate the general height of a mountain lion. “But it is shy and does not come down to people very often. We have no chui either.” She told him about her experience as bait to trap the fierce male leopard and about his rage when he saw her.

  “Engai did not give chui the strength in his jaws that he gave the lion. But he gave him fierce, raking claws and a wildness in his heart. He does not have simba’s roar, but he has mad yellow eyes to strike terror in his prey’s heart. Some say it frightens the soul so it cannot flee. Such is often the way. Animals often possess something to make up for the strength they do not have. Even some men are like this. Those that are not strong of body may have fierceness of heart. Those that lack the arm to throw a spear may use poison or secret weapons.”

  He cast another, longer look at Jade. “And do you still hunt witches?”

  Jade let out a breathy huff and her shoulders twitched. “In a way. I hunted for a man who killed the great tembo for their ivory tusks, a man who sold slaves and guns. And I hunted for a witch who stole my mother far to the north.”

>   Tajewo nodded. “You are a lioness. The male lion is bigger and very dangerous, but it is the female that hunts for the pride. Who do you hunt for now?”

  Jade started at his insight. It was true—she was hunting again, although less actively than before. She remembered trying to explain this to her mother when she’d finally told her about the adventure on Mount Marsabit. Jade had summarized it in the following words: “There was a great evil that ran rampant during the War. I couldn’t do anything about it, but I could do something about the one on Marsabit.” She still believed it, too. In a way, she felt she was doing her part to rid the world of some of its cruelty. But this time she hunted for a killer to clear an innocent man’s name.

  “A man was killed in Nairobi. I hunt for his killer.” Perhaps it was the fact that she knew he wouldn’t tell anyone else, perhaps it was the strength he radiated, but for some inexplicable reason, she felt the need to unburden herself to this strange man. “His wife is missing, too. I would like to find her.”

  “Why do you seek the woman? Did she kill her husband?”

  “No.” Jade paused and shrugged. “She left her toto. Why would a mother do that? Maybe she was also killed. Or maybe she hides from the killer.”

  “So you hunt for animals for the white men to take, you hunt for a killer, and you hunt for his wife.” Tajewo shook his head. “It is not good to do too much at once. We have a saying. A man cannot walk on two different paths at the same time. It will crack his buttocks.”

  Jade tossed back her head and laughed. “That would explain a lot, Tajewo.” The fresh coolness of the morning air joined with the exhilaration of being alive in the company of Africa to renew Jade’s strength. She became impatient with her own pace and fell into an easy, loping run. Tajewo released his thigh bell and matched her step as they ran across the plains, startling an occasional ground bird or antelope. The metallic jangling of Tajewo’s bells gave most animals ample warning and cleared the way of anything potentially dangerous.

  They soon passed the first set of warriors, now returning with a confused young rhino trotting between two of the men and in front of the third. Jade waved at them as they went past and they saluted her with their spears held high. The new pace ate up the ground and very soon the old farmstead appeared. Window curtains hinted that the home had once again become inhabited. Tajewo was not impressed.

  “I will not leave until I know you are safe. But I will hide here.” He pointed to a distant stand of euphorbia trees, which looked like candelabras hoisting green tapers atop bare trunks. A clump of thick succulents clustered at the base.

  Jade stepped up onto the rickety veranda and knocked at the weather-beaten front door. No one answered, but she thought she heard a noise from within. A quick glance to the window revealed a small woman trying to spy on her. Jade waved and smiled. The curtain dropped, and the door opened a foot, enough for the woman to step out but not enough to give any appearance of hospitality.

  The young woman stood several inches below Jade. She had fiery red hair with a touch of orange pulled back in a tight bun. The color reminded Jade of the hennaed hair she’d seen in some of the Berber women of the Atlas Mountains. Wearing a sacklike dress of navy blue cotton and stout work boots, the woman looked haggard and frightened. Her pale skin showed no freckling, indicating she’d seen little sun, unusual for a farmwife. If she had just recently taken up residence, Jade reasoned, she probably still saw every person or noise as a potential threat. Jade guessed her age to be somewhere in the twenties. Something about her face seemed familiar.

  “Good morning. My name is Jade del Cameron. I’m an American living in Nairobi. I was flying an airplane and had to set down west of here. I was hoping you could give me a ride to Naivasha. I would pay you, of course.”

  “Can’t help you. I have no automobile.”

  “Then the truck behind your house doesn’t work? Perhaps I could see what’s wrong with it. I’m a good mechanic.” Jade could have sworn she had seen vehicle tracks leading to the house when she flew over before.

  “It’s out of petrol.” From behind her came a faint gurgling coo. The woman started to turn to listen, then quickly snapped back and faced Jade again. “If you need water, you can help yourself to the pump out back.”

  “Thank you. That’s very kind of you. It’s been a long walk,” said Jade. “When I get to Naivasha, should I tell someone that you need petrol? Do you need food, too?”

  “No! I have what I need already. Now you’d better get moving on, elsewise you’ll still be walking when the sun gets high.” The woman started to close the door, but Jade stopped it with her hand.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a tin cup or something that I can drink from, would you?”

  The woman considered the question a moment, then nodded. “Wait here.”

  She left the door a few inches ajar and went into a back room. Jade stepped in closer and surveyed what little she could see of the house’s interior. An idea had come to her when she heard what sounded like a child’s voice. The front room was sparsely furnished with one chair near a fireplace and a small square table. In the near corner stood two crates labeled NESTLÉ’S MILK FOOD and WEBLEY’S TINNED BEEF. Both were stamped STOKES AND BERRYHILL. Jade stepped back outside just before the woman returned with a battered tin cup.

  “Here,” she said as she handed the cup to Jade. “Just leave it hanging on the pump when you’re finished.”

  “Thank you,” said Jade. “Is your husband hunting right now?”

  The woman blinked twice, her blue eyes mirroring the brilliant sky. “Yes. Hunting. He’s hunting now. Should be back tonight.”

  “That’s good. I’d be worried about you alone out here otherwise. Are you sure I can’t send someone out to check on you? Maybe someone from Nairobi?”

  “No! Goodbye.”

  The woman shut the door in Jade’s face, and she heard the bolt slide across the door on the other side. Without waiting, Jade went around back to the well pump and used the cup to refill her canteen. Tajewo joined her, but declined the use of the cup, preferring to dip his head and drink directly from the flowing stream of water.

  He straightened and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. “This person will take you to Nai’posha?”

  Jade shook her head, all the while looking at the grasses behind the truck. “No. The woman says the truck does not work.”

  Tajewo leaned on his spear. “I think perhaps she lies. The grasses are bent close by.”

  It didn’t take a great hunter to notice the recent track left by some wheels. But they ended a few feet behind the old truck. “No, I think another automobile has been here instead.” Jade longed to check the fuel level, but decided it was pointless. She hung the tin cup on the well pump and walked away, following the tire tracks. Whoever drove in hadn’t come straight to the house. Instead, he’d bypassed it and doubled back, reminding Jade of how a protective mountain lion mother would avoid a direct path to her den lest she lead another predator to her cubs.

  “Why would this woman lie to you?” asked Tajewo, falling in step beside her.

  Jade knew now why the face had looked familiar despite the severely styled red hair. She’d seen it before in two different photographs. “Because she is the woman I told you about. The one who is missing. I do not think she wants to be found.”

  SAM LEANED BACK in Avery’s car and stared at the ceiling. How did one deal with knowing that the woman he’d come halfway around the world to meet might be lying in a broken heap in the African wild? You took action and found her—that was how. He wished he could have jumped on his motorcycle and gone off immediately, but at present he felt as limp as a soggy scarecrow and even more useless.

  What the hell is keeping Avery and Neville? He glared at his watch. He’d been waiting outside of the hotel for an hour. To hell with this. He got up and made his way into the front parlor, where he promptly collapsed into a leather easy chair.

  We should have left on our own. W
e’d be halfway to Naivasha by now. He wished he’d gone to the rooms to rouse the men with Avery, but Avery had warned that he’d be back in the hospital if he pushed himself too hard. So he’d let Avery and Neville organize the search while he watched precious time slip past him.

  Avery reappeared in a moment, alone. “Sorry, Sam. Not much luck there. Must have put on quite a bender at the dinner last night. They’re by and large in no condition to go anywhere.” He snorted derisively. “A host of drunken sots. I don’t know what the Volunteer Mounted Rifles amounted to in their heyday, but right now it’s an excuse to get a snoot full. I was astonished by how rapidly I could galvanize these men into doing nothing.”

  Sam’s eyes widened with the realization that they’d just wasted valuable time. “You couldn’t rouse a single man out of a host of former soldiers?”

  “One, a farmer named Harding, seemed cogent enough, especially when he learned it was a woman who was flying.”

  Avery and Sam moved to the car while Avery continued his account. “I asked him if he could recommend any other men from his group. He said Berryhill had gone home drunk last evening. Thought a Mr. Chalmers could be of use, but he didn’t come to the meeting. I hope Neville has more luck, but it seems the governor returned yesterday to declare us the Kenya Colony and everyone else ran off to see him. I told Harding we’d regroup at the Naivasha Hotel,” he continued. “We can see if anyone there heard an airplane fly over or fly back.”

  “Then we’ll split up and patrol the area south of the lake where I’d planned to fly,” said Sam as he got back into the car to wait for Neville. “If anyone finds her unharmed, they should fire three shots in rapid succession, then bring her back to the hotel. Four shots will mean . . .”

  “Keep a good thought, Sam. We’ll only need to fire three shots.”

  “I WILL WALK with you to Nai’posha,” said Tajewo, “since this woman will not help you.”

  Jade heard the disgust in his voice. “Do not be too hard on her. She is afraid of someone.”