The man at Kambala (10 page)

`You are missing your father?' asked Kimani, coming across her gazing into space with the letter still open in her hand.

He had approached quietly, and Sara started, looking up from her seat on the steps to meet his smiling regard. 'What ... Well, yes, I am, I suppose. He seems to have been gone an age.'

`You should have gone with him,' he said, taking a seat beside her and lighting a cigarette. 'He would have enjoyed your company, and you the change of scene'

`If one more person tells me I need a change from here . . ' began Sara, then paused and added wryly, `Sorry. Didn't mean to snap your head off, Kim. I

think I'M starting to lose my sense of humour.'

`You're bored,' he returned frankly. 'Perhaps when Steve's young sister arrives things will be better. Have you heard yet when she's due?'

`No. He hasn't mentioned it since that first time. When did he tell you about it?'

`A few days ago. The supply plane is due on Friday. She may be coming through on that.'

`I suppose so.' Sara still wasn't at all sure that she wanted the other girl here. She wasn't sure of anything these days. She changed the subject. 'Are you going out today?'

`Soon. Do you want to come along?'

`Depends where you're going.'

His teeth flashed white against copper skin. 'Buffalo hunting. Is that exciting enough for you?'

`Might be. Mind if I drive?'

His shrug was good-humoured. 'Why not? A man can only die once.'

She pulled a face at -him, sticking the letter in her pants' pocket as she got up. She would write back tonight although it wouldn't go till Friday now. She should have had one written ready to give to the Willards to post for her in Nairobi, she thought. They would be half-way there by this time. She wondered if Travis was thinking of her.

They took one of the rangers with them, plus a packed lunch, and drove out in the direction of the Escarpment for ten miles or so before branching off into the bush in search of the shy but exceedingly dangerous black buffalo. Kimani had seen two separate herds of the animals in the area a few days previously and wanted to check on their direction and progress.

It took them almost two hours to find one herd, and even then they could easily have missed them if Kimani hadn't spotted one of the sentry bulls on the edge of a thicket. He took the car downwind, and left Sara in it while he and Temu moved up cautiously on the main body of the herd to do a count. She watched them through the glasses for a few minutes until the bush hid them from her view, then settled herself down resignedly to wait for their reappearance.

There was a herd of Thomson's gazelle about five hundred yards away, grazing peacefully and flicking their tails. Sara watched idly, not really thinking about anything very much until a movement in the grass roughly half-way between the car and the herd brought her alert. There was some animal creeping up on the gazelles, trying to get as close as possible before attacking. She caught a glimpse of spotted fur and a small head. Cheetah ! One of the few predators which hunted by day, and the fastest in action. Whichever animal had been singled out as prey didn't stand much of a chance if the big cat got within striking distance without discovery.

But now the herd was alerted, the sentry animals on the outer edge facing outwards in the direction of the advancing menace, bodies tensed, heads lifted to assess the nature of the threat. The cheetah broke cover with a bound which carried it several yards across the expanse of shorter grass between it and the herd, and then it was running smoothly and at top speed on the heels of the fleeing herd, ignoring all but the on
e
animal it had set its sights on. It was all over in seconds. A streak of silver as the cat launched itself at the neck of its prey, and the gazelle was down, the rest of the drama hidden in the scrub.

The shots came at almost the same moment, two of them close together. Without stopping to consider, Sara grabbed the spare gun and made in the direction of the sound, ignoring the snatch of branch and twig at her clothing as she pressed into the bush along the narrow game trail the two men had taken some minutes before. She came upon them quite suddenly, to find Temu kneeling above the prostrate figure of Kimani Ngogi, while not ten feet away lay the body of a full-grown bull buffalo, its magnificent spread of horns completely blocking the trail.

Kimani was conscious but obviously in pain, his right leg doubled under him at a crazy angle. The bull had come at them totally unexpectedly from the flank, forcing him to shoot in self-defence. When his shot failed to stop the bull he had given it the other barrel and then leaped to one side to avoid the impetus of its rush even as it died on its feet. In doing so he had fallen heavily, and clearly heard the bone crack as it twisted under him.

`You're going to have to splint it and help me out of here, you and Temu,' he said stoically.

Sara stayed with him while Temu made for the nearest tree several hundred yards away and lopped off a couple of the straightest branches he could find. Getting the broken limb straightened out was the worst part of the job. Kimani's face was beaded in sweat by the time his leg was securely bound to the improvised

splints with strips torn from Temu's shirt. Hoisting him to his feet proved no easy task either, but they managed it. With the young Kenyan hitched firmly if agonizingly over Temu's broad shoulders the little party set off back to the car, Sara walking in front with the gun at the ready for trouble from any quarter. She was highly relieved when they reached their destination without meeting any.

There wasn't room in the back of the Rover to lay Kimani flat, but by a dint of manoeuvring they managed to get him sitting between the seats with his injured leg stretched out before him. There was blood on his lower lip where his teeth had bitten in during the gruelling moments of being carried here. Sara wished with all her heart that they had something to give him strong enough to ease the pain, but the first-aid kits in the car carried no morphine, even if she had known how to go about administering it.

She deliberately turned her back on him as Temu slipped into the driving seat and started the engine, knowing how much his Masai blood would resent the indignity of having a woman witness his helplessness.

He passed out at least twice during the fifty-minute journey back to Kambala, his head lolling back against the partition. Sara felt each bump and jolt with him, although Temu did his best to pick out as level a route as possible. Never had the sight of the Station been so welcome.

Steve was still out on patrol, and not expected back before nightfall. With Temu and another of the rangers carrying him into the house, Kimani was made as comfortable as possible on the bed in his room while

Ted radioed for help. When he came back he told them that a plane was being sent out immediately to transport the injured man back to civilization for proper care and attention.

B
ut we still have to get him across to the airstrip,' Sara said worriedly. 'That's another hour's journey, and he's almost exhausted with pain now.'

`We've got morphine,' Ted reassured her. 'I've given it before in an emergency. You'd better stay on here and tell Steve what's happened if he does get back early.'

Half .an hour later the car was on its way again, travelling at its normal steady pace with Kimani as comfortable as he could be in the back. Sara watched it out of sight before turning back disconsolately into the house. It had all happened so quickly; there had been no real time in which to think about it up till this moment. Now she realized for the first time that she had probably seen the last of Kimani Ngogi, if not for good, then certainly for a good length of time. The Department would probably send someone else out to finish off the present phase of his work. It was going to seem odd without the young Kenyan around the place. More than anything would she miss his unfailing good humour and readiness to allow her to share in his work.

The afternoon wore on. Ted still hadn't returned when the other Land-Rover came slowly up the track. Steve climbed from behind the wheel, tossing his hat back into the cabin and stretching as he looked up the steps to where Sara stood in the shade.

`You're looking very solemn and serious,' he remarked. 'Is that what my homecoming does to you?' `Kim broke a leg,' she stated baldly. 'He'll be on his way to Nairobi by now.'

The smile faded from his face. 'How did it happen?'

She told him, and he shook his head. 'Lucky it wasn't worse. He should have known better than to follow buffalo into thick bush. How about a drink?'

Sara followed him into the living-room, standing in the doorway as he moved across to the cabinet. 'Is that all it means to you?' she demanded.

He turned to consider her for a moment. 'Now what are you on about?'

`Kim could have been killed, and all you can say is that he should have known better !'

`Well, what am I supposed to say?'

`A little sympathy is usual.'

`What good is that to him when he isn't even here? Come to think of it, what good would it be to him if he were here?' He finished pouring the whisky, splashed in some orange and looked back at her with faintly curling lip. 'How's the back?'

`All right.' Her voice was short.

`From which I gather that you've no intention of letting me touch it again. Okay, no reason why I should unless it starts going the wrong way, and that seems unlikely.' He sat down in the nearest chair, slinging a leg over the arm and taking a long pull from his glass. 'That's better!' Grey eyes slid her way when she failed to make any move, and a hint of impatience came into his expression. 'Either sit down and be sociable or run away and play with your toys,' he exclaimed. 'What the devil's wrong with you, anyway?'

Sara couldn't have told him with any certainty herself. All she did know was that the tensions which had been slowly building up inside her over the last couple of days had reached eruption point on seeing him walk so unconcernedly past her a moment ago. Nothing touched him. There was no softness in him at all. She wanted desperately to hurt him, and didn't know how.

`There's nothing wrong with me,' she answered. 'I just don't like having the people and things I care about dismissed as if they were of no consequence. I don't suppose you made a mistake in your life !'

`I've made plenty,' was the even response. 'But never the same one twice. Cut it out, will you?'

`Or what?' she flung at him recklessly. 'You'll send me to bed without any supper? Do you act the heavy father with Jill too?'

`Not since she was fourteen. And I said cut it out.' `Go to hell !'

It hardly needed the ominous tautening of his jaw to tell her that this time she had gone too far, but having said it she wasn't going to retract. There was a bare moment's silence while he sat there studying her narrowly, then he put down the glass and got purposefully to his feet.

`You asked for it.'

Sara stood her ground for all of three seconds, as he moved towards her, before turning abruptly to dive across the veranda and down the steps into the compound. Her heart thudded as she heard him jump the
steps behind her, but she kept on going round the corner of the house and across the grass to vault the fence at its nearest point and make for the belt of trees. Afterwards she told herself that she should have known Steve York wouldn't give up that easily. When she reached the trees he was on her heels, and before she had taken another dozen steps he had her by the belt of her jeans, yanking her to a standstill and jerking her round to face him.

At that moment she went wild, kicking out at him with both feet, pummelling him with her fists, twisting fiercely in an effort to break his hold on her. His hand loosened its grasp on her belt, but only to slide around her waist and lift her bodily from the ground. Pinned against his chest, she found herself looking straight into the glinting grey eyes.

`Now what have you to say for yourself ?' he demanded.

Put me down !' She could scarcely breathe, but she still had the use of her feet, and didn't much care where they landed. She saw him wince as one toecap connected sharply with his shinbone, and knew a moment's vicious delight. Then he grabbed her by the knees and swung her round in his arms so that she lay with her head against his shoulder, holding her there with a grip that hurt.

`I somehow don't think it'd do much good to paddle you,' he said mockingly. 'But there's more than one way to skin a cat !'

His mouth found hers, parting her lips to a bruising merciless kiss. She fought him savagely, but she was helpless against his strength and purpose. And then the

fight went out of her, leaving her quivering unresisting in his arms. When he lifted his head again she could feel the heat flooding her cheeks and knew that he must be aware of the mad pounding of her heart. In that moment she hated him with everything that was in her.

'That will perhaps teach you to curb that tongue of yours,' he said with satire. 'All through, are we?'

`Let me go.' Her voice sounded thick.

`Sure.' He set her back on her feet and stood to one side to indicate the way they had come. 'Ladies first.'

Sara walked past him, only too conscious that he was laughing at her. She wanted to kill him, not so much for what he had done but for the way he had done it. She wished suddenly and passionately that she were older, sophisticated, capable of taking an incident like that in her stride — except that if she had been it wouldn't have happened, at least not in the same way.