Shadows in the Grass

by Beverley Harper

  Fifty yards from the wagons, he came across the first body. ‘Lorna?’ It was a scream of sheer panic. Another body. Dallas ran on.

  ‘Dallas?’

  Oh God, sweet Jesus! The surge of relief rolled over him like a tidal wave. She was safe. There, running to him, blonde hair streaming. Neither stopped. Dallas caught her up, holding as tightly as he dared. His breath came in torturous gasps, lungs straining, chest heaving, legs trembling. He held on to her for dear life. She was crying and shaking but she was alive and in his arms.

  Dallas had pushed himself to the limits yet he had to know about the bodies. ‘What happened?’ he croaked, staring over her head at three grey shapes lying close to the wagons.

  ‘Cam,’ Lorna whispered, clutching at him. ‘He was so hot. Tobacco took him to the river. They were on their way back when we heard your first shots. Then the elephants came. Dear God, Dallas, I’ve never seen anything like it. Cam was right in their path. Tobacco ran with him but I knew they weren’t going to make it. I grabbed your Winchester and let fly.’

  ‘Is Cam all right?’

  He felt her head nodding.

  ‘You shot these elephants? With the Yellow Boy?’

  ‘At them, yes. It was Will who stopped them.’

  ‘My God!’

  Lorna pulled away, bent double and retched. The enormity of what she had gone through hit Dallas with a force that left him filled with horror. Pregnant, sick and afraid, she had stood her ground to face dozens of panic-filled, stampeding elephants. She had put herself in danger in order to save their son from certain death. When she straightened he caught her close. ‘Never again. Never. I know I said the same thing last time but I do mean it. Never, ever again.’

  She sagged against him. ‘I’ve never been so scared. Everything happened so quickly. There was no time to think.’

  Dallas felt her hot tears, and as they clung to each other he became very angry, furious with Logan and his ridiculous pride, disgusted with himself for deserting everything that was precious to him. The elephants weren’t to blame, people were. Those God had given the gift of reason. Reason! There was nothing remotely reasonable about today.

  Over Lorna’s head, he saw Will coming towards them. Still carrying his Cape gun, Will looked as angry as Dallas felt. ‘How many times do I have to say it?’ he roared. ‘Elephants are dangerous. Now perhaps that idiot friend of yours will listen.’ Seeing the look on Dallas’s face, he stopped. ‘What?’

  Dallas tightened his arms around Lorna. ‘Logan’s dead.’

  He felt her quick intake of breath and saw the colour drain from Will’s face.

  ‘We lost two of the boys as well.’

  Will Green, that wily little Yorkshireman whose word could never be counted on, who would lie, cheat, even rob when he thought he could get away with it, suddenly had moisture in his eyes. He scrubbed it away angrily but the tears came back and trickled down his face. ‘No,’ he whispered. ‘Not Logan. It’s not possible.’

  Dallas saw Will’s struggle to accept what had happened. They had both believed that Logan was indestructible. The fact that this had proved not to be somehow was more shocking than his actual death. It felt like betrayal.

  Yet in the void that had been raw terror, something quite unexpected revealed itself. Will made no secret of looking out for himself first, yet despite a very real fear of elephants, when time came to stand up and be counted, he had not let Lorna down. Danger, less to himself than to two others he’d come to care about, brought out bravery no-one, least of all himself, would have expected. With it had come confidence. Will, uncharacteristically and with surprising authority, took charge. Blowing his nose vigorously, he nodded to Dallas. ‘Take care of her.’ Striding off, Will summoned the straggle of skinners who were just starting to reappear. ‘Come with me. There’s work to be done. You, bring shovels. You, go back to Chief Ngetho’s. There’s meat here for his people. You, get my Bible.’ Tis God’s blessing that damned man needs, whether he wants it or not. You, get the fire going. We’ll want coffee with our rum.’

  Dallas could not believe the change in Will. He was grateful for it, though. He had to spend time with Lorna and Cam. A man for whom he held great affection had been snatched from him today. Now Dallas needed the company of two others. It wouldn’t bring his friend back, but it had made him realise that nothing should be taken for granted. He and Lorna walked slowly, arms around each other, back to their wagon. Cam, blissfully unaware of the danger he’d been in, sat playing with wooden building blocks. Tobacco stood nearby.

  ‘Sir.’ The African’s eyes were downcast. ‘I am sorry, master.’

  ‘Don’t be. You were not to blame.’

  Tobacco hung his head. ‘I should not have taken him to the river.’

  ‘I asked you to,’ Lorna reminded him quietly. ‘I thought we’d have time. It’s not your fault, it’s mine.’

  Dallas could see the Zulu did not understand Lorna’s English. He eased her from him and went to the man, placing hands on his shoulders. ‘Cam loves the water and the weather is very hot. You did the right thing. I do not blame you. We would like you to keep taking him. We trust you.’

  Lorna joined them. ‘Please, Tobacco. It could have been your life too. Your actions made it possible for the guns to save our son.’

  Dallas translated for her.

  ‘Madam.’ Tobacco looked up. He was struggling to express himself and failing. The moment was made difficult by centuries of tradition. A man who allows his life to be saved by a woman is an object of scorn. In recent years, exposure to Europeans had brought with it grudging acceptance of technical and medical expertise hitherto unknown in Zulu society. The whites had strange customs, though no-one doubted their cleverness. They also provided employment, a necessary evil if the much-coveted goods brought with them were to be purchased. In that valley, and on that day, respect competed with a still popularly held belief that women were inferior. ‘You are my sister now,’ was the best compliment Tobacco could manage without compromising masculine superiority.

  Lorna, quick to understand, knew that a reciprocal gesture was required, one that would allow the Zulu to keep face. ‘As Cam will be your brother,’ she responded.

  A wide smile of acceptance told her she’d got it right.

  Later, Dallas tried to explain that the brother-sister thing was quite complicated and he wasn’t certain that Tobacco was entitled to take on a new brother and sister without permission from his chief. Lorna would have none of it. ‘He can call us what he likes. We are indebted to each other. That’s enough for me.’

  Logan was buried in the valley, Zulu-style, in a sitting position, facing home, his rifles and skinning knife interred with him. Will insisted on saying a requiescat of his own invention. It was short and sweet. ‘Dear Lord, even if he ain’t religious, he’s a good man. Don’t blame him for shooting elephants. Someone has to seeing as they eat too much. You made them big, an’ I ain’t blamin’ you for that. Anyways, take care of him, Lord, may he rest in peace. An’ if you wouldn’t mind, Lord, find him a friend. He was lonely down here. Thank you.’ Will looked defiantly around, waiting for someone to laugh. No-one did.

  ‘Amen,’ Dallas said.

  ‘Yeah, sorry, Lord. Amen.’

  Mister David organised burial of the crushed skinner and Logan’s gun bearer. The latter had died in similar fashion to his employer after being impaled and carried on a tusk for several hundred yards. Empty spaces around the fires that night kept everyone subdued. The Africans had their own beliefs which kept them silent. Dallas, Lorna and Will each reflected on Logan’s absence. Sleep seemed like a good idea for everyone.

  Chief Ngetho’s men arrived early the next morning and began the gruesome task of cutting up nineteen elephants. The meat had already begun to spoil in the heat. Vultures, jackal, hyena and ants had, during the night, begun to make inroads on some. But even with their voracious appetites, the volume of meat was too much. The men worked hard. It was hot and dirty t
oiling, made difficult by scavengers equally determined to keep their share. Dallas and Will supervised extraction and weighing of the tusks. They were all anxious to leave the valley with its oppressive temperature and tragic memories. Two days later, the ivory loaded onto Logan’s wagon, they were rolling again.

  As they left the valley, elephants were seen once more, creatures of habit, tempted back by an abundance of good food and water. At the sight of the wagons, the smell of men and cattle, fear spread through the herds in an instant. Turning as one, they fled towards the distant hills and disappeared. Watching them, Dallas’s heart contracted with sympathy.

  Lorna, whose nausea seemed a little improved that morning, sat next to Dallas as he had a spell driving their wagon. Young Cam lay talking to his toes behind them. ‘Do you think Logan would approve of where he’s buried?’

  ‘The man loved that valley as much as anywhere else in Zululand. Just about his last words were that it was a good way to go. He meant out in the bush, not in a town. Logan was a loner. He’ll be happy. I think he always expected to die like that.’

  ‘We should have stopped him.’

  ‘How? You saw his determination. He’d have gone alone if necessary.’

  ‘It was terrifying. How could Logan have found it exciting?’

  ‘Challenge,’ Dallas suggested. ‘Some people need that. You and I do in a different kind of way.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ She sounded doubtful. ‘Did he have family?’

  ‘Yes, in England. They didn’t get along and I have no idea how to contact them.’

  ‘We must try. If he had any papers they could be in his wagon.’

  ‘I’ll check. If there’s anything that gives me an address, I’ll write to them.’

  Lorna was silent.

  ‘What’s troubling you?’

  ‘Us. If we died out here, who would tell our families?’

  ‘You’re upset, darling. So am I. Logan was a friend, a good one. I’ll miss him a great deal. But try to remember, he wouldn’t have wanted to go any other way.’ Dallas put an arm around her. ‘Anyway, we’re not going to die. We’re going to buy land and become fat and boring.’

  Lorna’s eyes looked into his. ‘Fat and boring sounds fine to me.’ She leaned her head on his shoulder, ready at last to talk about the valley. ‘I thought you were dead. When the elephants turned towards us, one had blood all over its tusks. I was scared to death for Cam. Something – I have no idea what – took over. I grabbed the rifle, even thought to take extra ammunition, and ran towards them. I think I was screaming. Then I just stood there and fired. I couldn’t have cared less about myself. Will was suddenly next to me and the two of us seemed to be acting as one. When the first animal dropped I felt nothing but satisfaction. We brought down the other two and the rest swerved away. It wasn’t until I got back to our wagon that the reaction hit me. This is a strange place, Dallas. So beautiful, yet there’s danger everywhere.’

  ‘What happened back there was our fault. Logan’s and mine. You can’t blame the elephants.’

  ‘I know.’ She burrowed into him, her arms gripping his waist. ‘I love you. If anything took you from me I’d want to die too.’

  Cam was sound asleep. Dallas called up Mister David. ‘Take over.’ Jumping down, he unhitched Tosca and Lorna’s bay mare, then rode up alongside the wagon. ‘Feel like a ride?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ Lorna needed no help. She leaned over and made the transition from wagon to horseback with the ease of a young boy. ‘Where to?’

  ‘Up there.’ Dallas pointed ahead. ‘There’s some country over those hills I want you to see. We’ll be gone a few hours. Will Cam be all right?’

  Lorna glanced at Mister David, who nodded. ‘When he wakes, I shall call Tobacco to sit with him.’

  ‘Let’s go.’

  They kept the horses to a leisurely pace. Although Lorna scoffed at the idea, Dallas felt her condition was too delicate for her to ride faster than a walk. He was gently insistent and Lorna, surprisingly, gave in. They followed the river then crossed at a wide, sandy bend, stopping to let their horses drink. Veering away from the water, Dallas led them towards two small hills. Beyond, the land dropped dramatically, stretching away into a haze of purple and blue. ‘Look.’ His wave took in the entire scene spread out before them. ‘See that river? It’s the Ndaka. The name means muddy. Follow it as far as you can and you’ll just make out another.’

  ‘Over there.’ Lorna pointed.

  ‘Yes. That’s the Thukela. It makes a wide sweep northwards and meets with the Ndaka.’

  Lorna shaded her eyes to scan an endless thornveld plain of sandy soil and waving yellow grass. Heat shimmered and danced forming mirages, large sheets of water that no-one in their wildest imagination could believe were real. Small dust devils blew across the hot land. She took a long time before glancing at Dallas. ‘You’re joking.’

  He grinned. ‘Patience. All will be revealed. The Thukela then turns due east and is joined by several major rivers as it makes its way down to the sea.’

  ‘How far away is that?’

  Dallas shrugged. ‘About a hundred miles, at a rough guess.’

  ‘And?’ Lorna prompted.

  ‘The last fifty miles interest me. It’s sufficiently far enough inland and high enough to avoid the humidity of the coast. The area is bordered by two rivers – the Nsuzu to the north and the Thukela. It’s some of the most beautiful country I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘Why bring me here then?’

  ‘You had cobwebs in your head. I wanted to blow them away.’

  Lorna laughed. ‘You’re right. And it’s worked. I thought you were telling me that you wanted to live here.’

  ‘For myself, I wouldn’t mind. I love the sense of space up here, the roughness of it. But, my darling, as I also happen to love you, this is probably too isolated.’

  She shot him a questioning look. ‘Just how isolated are we?’

  ‘See for yourself. Nothing moves out there.’

  Lorna leaned the distance between the two horses and kissed him. ‘Good,’ she said softly.

  By the time they reached John Dunn’s kraal at Mangethe, Will was firmly of the opinion that Logan’s spirit travelled with them, bringing good luck, fair weather and excellent trading. He’d even taken care of Lorna’s morning sickness. And when Cam came within inches of stepping on a puff adder, instead of striking as it normally would have done, leading to almost certain death, the snake uncharacteristically up and left. ‘Logan,’ Will pronounced.

  Under his breath, Dallas muttered, ‘Thanks, old boy.’

  The weather improved daily. Warm dry days with nights cooling most agreeably. All slept better as a result.

  Their supply of trade goods ran out at the village before John Dunn’s. As well as ivory, skins and a mass of trek-made leather goods, they had accumulated an impressive collection of cattle, goats and poultry. Dunn bought all their excess livestock.

  They had been travelling for almost five months. Cam, who had grown nearly three inches, was a brown and sturdy toddler who preferred running to walking and could now out-talk the best of them. Lorna, tall and naturally slender, carried her pregnancy with barely a bulge. She’d foregone the enjoyment of riding two months earlier, either travelling on the wagon or, when the terrain was easy, walking with long, loose-limbed strides. Her face and arms were unfashionably brown, she exuded excellent health and happiness shone from her eyes.

  John Dunn made them most welcome, insisting they stay at least three nights in a newly built European-style guesthouse. The news of Logan’s death saddened their host greatly. An adventurer himself, one who had hunted and traded in Zululand, he was blunt but accurate. ‘He died as he liked to live. A gun in his hand, miles from so-called civilisation, doing what he did best. He gambled, lost, and to be perfectly honest, it’s the way he expected to go. What more could a man of the bush ask? I’ll miss him, but in a way, I envy him.’

  Conversation inevitably turned to poli
tics. Will began it on their first night there, when he queried British recognition, or rather lack of it, for the self-proclaimed Zulu king.

  Dunn rolled his eyes. ‘Cetshwayo is still waiting for the British to acknowledge him. Shepstone is due up here any day to officially crown him in the name of Her Majesty. Cetshwayo has not been impressed by the delay. In truth, he couldn’t afford to wait. A couple of months ago he declared the period of mourning for Mpande was over and moved the royal kraal up to Ulundi, which they’re calling the heart of Zululand. As we speak, a new isigodlo is being built next to his father’s old one.’

  Dallas wanted to know why Cetshwayo couldn’t wait for Shepstone.

  ‘Two reasons. He’s a traditionalist first and a politician second. It was important that his subjects saw him crowned the old way. Of more concern, though, was the discovery that several northern chiefs together with five of Mpande’s younger sons who live in Natal under British protection were plotting against him. He had to act quickly. I went with him, which turned out to be just as well.’

  ‘Why?’ Dallas asked.

  Dunn looked momentarily defiant. ‘Rifles. Some of the Zulus were armed.’

  ‘You supplied them?’

  ‘Why not? It was legal. I had permits.’

  ‘But how did you get the authorities to agree?’

  ‘I told them the truth. Cetshwayo needed to establish authority over his own people. Mind you, I omitted to mention that I offered to train some of his impi.’

  Dallas nodded. ‘I imagine a few hunters and traders helped as well.’

  Dunn’s glare became suspicious. ‘How did you know?’

  Dallas laughed. ‘Fact or fiction, news travels.’

  ‘Do you want to hear what happened or not?’

  ‘Sorry. Please continue.’

  Dunn threw Lorna a resigned look and continued.