'He must have been cut off by the fire. He probably found the paintings but now can't get back to the jeep.'
'I hope you're right,' said the manager, 'and that he's safe behind that wall of fire. It looks pretty dangerous to me.'
But nevertheless he went towards it giving quick instructions to the Africans who were evidently used to grass fires, for they started beating at the flames with wet sacks. Perry started to go towards the fire, but Mark shouted to her to get back and sit in the truck. She sat there feeling helpless as she watched them fighting the flames. They seemed to be getting on top of them, but where was Fabian? Suppose she were to take the truck and try to drive around the fire? It seemed to have died down at that end. Afterwards he could not think what had possessed her, but she put a wet towel around her mouth to keep out the fumes and started up the truck while the men were engaged with their fire-fighting and drove to where she could see the fire had swept past and there was nothing but a blackened patch. The only thought in her mind was that she must find Fabian. She could feel the heat of the flames, but they were roaring away from her. And now she was on the other side of the rocks. She stopped the truck and got out, searching with her eyes for some sign of movement above, where the stones formed a natural overhang like a cave. But she was suddenly startled by a voice close at hand.
'Perry - good God, what are you doing here? How did you get through the fire?'
She felt weak with relief. 'I drove it through the gap, Fabian, while the others were putting the fire out.'
'What a crazy thing to do! Why on earth did you do it?'
'I thought perhaps you needed help, that you'd been overcome by smoke.'
Fabian grinned. 'Not me. Didn't you know I lead a charmed life? But you... you could have easily lost the truck for us - and how are the tyres ?'
She had not thought about them. She had not thought of anything but that Fabian was in danger behind that wall of flame. And now she found that instead of being considered somewhat heroic she appeared to have done something foolish.
'They seem to be all right. That part of the ground must have been cooled by the wind. But it would have been better if you'd left me to make my way back on my own. The boys seem to be coping quite adequately with the fire, but really there was no cause for alarm. It was merely annoying that I was delayed. If you'd waited, the fire would have swept past. I was never in any danger.'
How aggravating he was, standing there with his maddening confidence, his grey eyes alight with teasing laughter. Why had she been so concerned about him? Certainly he did not deserve a moment's worry from her. The fire had died down now and he took the driver's seat in the truck and motioned to her to climb up beside him. Something in her expression must have struck him, for he put his arm around her and held her close.
'What is it, Perry? Why do you look upset?'
She tried to blink away the tears, but to her immense chagrin they spilled over on to her cheeks.
'Surely not tears? I wouldn't have thought it of you, Perry. I thought you were tough. Has the meeting with Mark been too much for you? How did it go, by the way?'
She made an enormous effort at self-control.
'The smoke got into my eyes. Mark? Oh, it was grand seeing him again after all these years.'
He might not have believed her explanation about the tears, but he made no further comment. His meeting with Mark saved any further conversation between them. But as they started back, on the long journey to the encampment and she sat between the two men, she was silent. They did not seem to notice this because Fabian was telling Mark about the progress of the expedition, but Perry was quiet because she was trying to make some kind of sense of the varying emotions she had felt today. The memory of Mark had been expunged from her mind by her meeting with the living man who was pleasant, certainly, but could never again arouse passionate love, she knew.
One man had aroused great emotion in her today. She was quiet because she was trying to face the fact and it filled her with a haunting despair. For it was madness that Fabian of all people should have made her feel that if anything were to happen to him, then life for her would not be worth living any more.
The small green tent seemed like a refuge and Perry would have dearly loved to plead tiredness and not have to face the evening ahead, but Samantha had insisted that they were to have a special celebration for Mark's arrival.
She had not even inquired after Ken. It seemed as if it was a case of out of sight out of mind with her. Instead she welcomed Mark with great enthusiasm. 'It's lovely to have someone new to look at and talk to,' she told him childishly. She had so much charm, thought Perry, that it did not seem to matter that she always said the first thing that came into her head. She was easily bored and it really was a wonder that Paul had prevailed upon her to stay as long. But of course Fabian was the attraction. Samantha found it a challenge to meet a man who did not immediately become attracted to her. And he was older than the type of man she was used to. But Mark was more attractive than Ken, thought Perry. Poor Ken! He had seemed so devoted to Samantha, and really he had not seemed to stand a chance.
Paul had amused himself by doing some shooting and was proud of the fact that they were to have a brace of guinea-fowl for their evening meal. It was a moonlit night and the warm wind brought to the camp the smell of grass. As soon as she saw the glowing light of the fire Perry began to feel a little more cheerful. It was good to be back. She must put aside the question of her feelings for Fabian. That was absolute nonsense, brought about by the set of circumstances, the meeting with Mark, the adventure of the grass fire. Now she would make herself busy with practical things. What a darling little Topaz was! The prints of his paws around her tent were like little flowers. He had an immense curiosity about everything that moved, and pounced upon leaves blowing in the wind. He licked Perry with his rasping tongue and purred when she petted him as if he was pleased that she had returned.
The guinea-fowl tasted very good that evening. Samantha was wearing her dark long cotton dress and looked enchantingly feminine bending over her guitar and plucking a nostalgic tune from its strings. Fabian produced a bottle of champagne which he had cooled in the small freezer.
'What's the celebration?' asked Paul. 'Apart from the fact, of course, that I had good hunting while you were away.'
'We're celebrating a reunion,' Fabian replied. 'Our meeting with Mark.'
Perry was glad he had not expanded on this. Was he trying to make up for the injury he had unwittingly inflicted upon her all those years ago? Was he encouraging her to make up for the long separation with Mark? Was that why he referred to a reunion? But it was too late for that, she realized now. She was glad she had met Mark again. It had given her a new perspective. The champagne slid down her throat, its cold bubbles seeming an alien taste in these austere surroundings. Samantha seemed to be engaging Mark's attention and Paul came and sat by Perry's side.
'You're looking lovely tonight, Perry, in spite of that tiresome journey. You have a kind of radiance like a woman in love.'
'Thank you, Paul, but you pay the most odd compliments. Who could I be in love with?'
'Who indeed?' His shrewd green eyes glanced speculatively from Fabian to Mark. 'Well, if I had a pretty woman to myself at a hotel on the edge of the desert, I might be tempted to make the most of it. Be careful, my dear. Fabian, although he seems a little cold, has a reputation with women. My daughter, young as she is, could cope with a man like him better than you could, Perry.'
'You're quite wrong, Paul. I don't know how this conversation started anyway.'
'It started because you have a secret kind of glow about you tonight.'
They were interrupted by Fabian, who had raised his glass. To old friends reunited,' he said.
Who are we drinking to?' asked Samantha. 'You and Marie, Fabian?'
'And Perry,' Fabian informed her. 'She and Mark are old friends.'
'So that's it! Now I understand,' whispered Paul. 'Forgive me, Perry.
I had the wrong idea altogether. I thought Fabian had been charming you on the desert journey.'
Perry felt confused. 'I wish you'd leave it alone, Paul.'
'I apologize, my dear. I'm glad for my daughter's sake that it isn't Fabian.'
He's ridiculous, thought Perry. She was lying on a long cushioned seat that was one of the luxuries Fabian had provided for his guests. Paul had insisted on her using it while he had the humbler camp stool. From the chair she could gaze up into the dark blue vault of the heavens where the pale moon was chasing the stars. If she glanced to her left she could see Fabian, his face glowing in the lamplight, talking to Samantha and Mark with his easy charm. Why did she feel herself suddenly so drawn to him? Why did she wish she was alone with him again, alone in the shadowy moonlit street of the little desert outpost? This was madness, a crazy desire inspired by the dazzling bubbles of the golden drink she held in her hand.
She was glad of the distraction when Samgau walked from the direction of the Bushman camp with Toma and Natamu. He told them that the Bushmen were going to celebrate the fact that they had had the feast of gemsbok meat by dancing and playing games. Would they like to see this? Fabian was indestructible, thought Perry, for in spite of the fact that they had travelled for two days he sprang to his feet with great enthusiasm.
'What about it, Perry?' he called across to her. 'Do you feel up to taking any photographs? Is your flash loaded?'
Wood had been heaped upon the fires in the Bushman village and the savoury smell of roasted meat was in the air. Smoke lay around the encampment in a blue haze and a big circle had been left empty near the fire where the girls were sitting in a group clapping their hands and singing. But the men were still grouped around the small fires near the huts, smoking and talking to each other. The children took the opportunity to play in the cleared space. The little girls were imitating springboks, prancing around and pretending to pluck at tufts of grass. The little ones were the baby animals and the boys stalked them pretending to be lions. Every now and again there would be a cry of alarm and the girls would group around the younger children while the boys as lions attacked sometimes to carry them off. Then they did a frog dance, imitating frogs with lifelike jumps as children do all over the world.
Nusi came up to Perry as she was trying to photograph the children. She was looking lovely tonight, though her expression was still sad. Her skin was the colour of honey, her tufted hair hanging with shining white beads and her leather apron skirt adorned in intricate patterns. She smiled shyly and handed Perry an object wrapped in grass.
'What is this?' asked Perry, and Nusi shook her head shyly, pointing her hand to Perry with a lovely gesture of the long delicate fingers. Fabian had come up to them, for he was anxious to give Perry advice about the photography.
'Open it up. Nusi wants you to look at her gift.'
It was a bow and arrow in miniature, exquisitely made. 'Oh, how lovely!' exclaimed Perry. 'Imagine Nusi making such a tiny thing, and it's so perfect.'
'You're favoured,' said Fabian. 'Do you know its significance?' And when she shook her head, 'It's the love bow and it's used to give the owner good fortune either in love or in hunting. Nusi evidently wishes that you should be lucky in love as she herself wants to be.''
'Poor Nusi,' said Perry. 'I'm afraid my scheme didn't bring her much luck.'
Fabian smiled, but there was something hard about the expression of his eyes. 'Your magic bow has come at the right time for you, the night we're celebrating your reunion with Mark.'
She wanted to deny this, to fling aside his cool assumption that now she had met Mark again she would fall into his arms and live happily ever after. She did not feel this was the case at all. But with this man she felt as if she were hammering against a wall of stone. He drew his own conclusions and nothing would alter them. The children had withdrawn from the arena of sand and the singing of the women grew louder, sweet and piercing so that it set Perry's nerves throbbing. It was filled with sadness and desire for something that could not be. Love and pain were mingled, happiness and grief. It was the song she had heard before, but this time it continued on and on with longing and loneliness and passion.
'What does it mean?' she asked Fabian. He had drawn her away from the circle and motioned to her to sit down on the grass. He sat very close beside her, his eyes on the women, so that he could tell her when he thought the moment to photograph them had come.
'What? Oh, yes, the song... Samgau told me what it means, more or less ... I cry by the fire alone, because the earth is dry under the sun. It is crying all day long for the rain to come and I am like the earth, I too weep because I wish that my lover would come and carry me away. The grass cries for the wind to get the rain to come and my heart cries too because I am alone.'
There was all the longing and loneliness in the world in the voices of these small primitive women, and then suddenly the note changed. From the darkness beyond the firelight, the men came dancing swiftly into the place in front of the women, and they too were singing. Fabian had taken Perry's hand and drawn her to her feet and for a moment she swayed against him.
'Be ready to photograph this,' he said.
'What is it they're singing now?' she asked.
There must be a reply, she felt. That wild longing in the women's voices must be appeased in some way.
'They say something like this ... Listen to the wind, you will hear the rain coming. Listen to your heart, for you will hear that your lover is coming.'
'So they get their answer. It comes right in the end,' she said.
'Yes, Perry, it comes right in the end, as I hope it will come right for you and Mark. Now let's go to photograph the dancing.'
But it could not come right, she thought dully as she got on with her task. For Mark was not the answer to her dreams. As the men danced, there was a hard rattling noise from the cocoons filled with fragments of ostrich egg that were tied to their ankles. The clapping and singing of the women and the stamping of the men's feet together with the hard noise of the rattles all harmonized in a peculiar rhythmical way that had no need of other musical instruments. It seemed as if it was likely to go on and on. When Perry had taken adequate photographs, she asked Fabian if he would mind if she went back to the camp. She felt exhausted both physically and mentally.
'Very well, if you must,' he said a little shortly. 'Leave the camera with me in case I get an opportunity to take one of them falling into a trance. I believe that can happen when they've danced for a long time.'
She laughed, disguising her hurt at his abruptness. 'If I stay any longer, Fabian, you'll be able to see me falling into a trance, I'm quite sure. I'll just slip away.'
'No, you mustn't go by yourself. Take Mark with you. That's what you'd like, isn't it?'
Before she could deny this he had called to Mark who was deep in conversation with Samantha.
'I'm talking to Mark,' Samantha pouted. 'Surely Perry can find her way back on her own.'
'Of course I can,' said Perry, now thoroughly distressed by Fabian's insistence that she should have Mark for an escort.
'No, you can't. I'm responsible for your welfare and you must have some protection on the way back.'
'Oh, for heaven's sake, Fabian,' Samantha mocked. 'Perry's a big girl now, aren't you, Perry?'
Fabian was not to be persuaded.
'Mark can take Perry back and return if he wants to. It will only take a few minutes.'
Why was he pushing Mark at her? thought Perry. He could not realize that all feeling she had had for Mark was past. They walked away from the firelight. Mark had a torch and the path was quite clear, well trodden by all the Bushmen visitors to the camp.
'I'm sorry to drag you away, Mark, I could have easily come by myself. I don't know why Fabian was so fussy about it.'
'Think nothing of it. I'm pretty tired myself after the rush to come here and all the drama of the fire today.'
The walked the path in silence broken only by the sounds of the des
ert night; a screech owl flew overhead, its soft wings in silent fight, and a night plover sounded lonely as if it were calling to its mate.
'It's good to be here,' said Mark. 'It isn't strange to me, of course. I've visited the desert before - that's why Fabian got in touch with me. I tried to make a study of Bushmen some years ago. How do you like them, Perry?'
'I think they're amazing. They live in such rugged harsh conditions and yet they really are such a gentle kind of people, and so full of humour.'
'That's right. It isn't in their nature to fight. They have to use their wits, though, simply to keep alive.'
They had reached the camp by now and she was glad to see her lamp illuminating the small green tent, making it look like a giant glow-worm. Joshua had built up the fire and it was a cheerful sight after the darkness of the journey back from the Bushman village.
'We can't waste such a marvellous fire. What do you say, Perry? Come and sit a while; you haven't told me anything about yourself.'
She let herself be persuaded to sit down by the fire with Mark. She felt in a trancelike state as she had said, for she was exhausted, and yet she knew she would have difficulty in sleeping even if she wait off to her tent. She had not yet had time to examine the significance of her feelings towards Fabian. Surely it could not be true? It had been brought on by the romantic circumstances of desert life, and the journey to the little town. She did not want to feel like this, to have the same sad, hopeless longing that she had sensed in the voices of the women as they sang. But that had come to a conclusion and this feeling of hers could not have any satisfactory ending. Fabian hardly noticed her and on the occasions when he had kissed her it was definitely only because he had this reputation for attracting women and found her attitude of coldness somewhat intriguing. She wished she could get away somewhere on her own, where she need not meet him for a while and could sort out her feelings and persuade herself to be the cool, sensible grown woman that she was in her Johannesburg life.
Sweet Roots and Honey Page 12
