Birds of Prey (68 page)

‘I would have mourned if your decision had been different, Althuda.’ Hal smiled with genuine pleasure. ‘Together our chances are much increased. Now we must make our
preparations and agree on the time when we will set out.’

Sukeena came from the fire to sit beside Hal, and spoke out firmly: ‘Your leg will not be healed for at least another five days. I will not allow you to march upon it before
then.’

‘When the Princess speaks,’ Aboli declared, in his deep voice, ‘only a foolish man does not listen.’

During those last days Hal and Sukeena foraged for the herbs and plants that she would use for medicine and food. The last of the infection in Hal’s wounds yielded to her treatment, while
climbing and descending the steep and rugged slopes of the mountains rapidly strengthened his injured limb.

On the day before the journey was due to commence, the two stopped at midday to bathe and rest and make love in the soft grass beside the stream. This was a branch of the river that they had not
visited on their previous forays, and while Hal lay surfeited with passion in the warm sunlight, Sukeena stood up naked and moved away up the ravine a short distance to ease herself.

Hal watched her squat behind a patch of low bush, lay back and closed his eyes, drifting lazily to the edge of sleep. He was roused by the familiar sound of Sukeena’s sharp pointed digging
stick pounding into the earth. A few minutes later she returned, still naked, but with a crumbling lump of yellow earth in her hand.

‘Flower crystals! The first I have found in these mountains.’ She looked delighted with her discovery, and emptied some of the less valuable herbs from her basket to make place for
the lumps of friable earth. ‘Part of these mountains must once have been volcanoes for the flower crystals are spewed up from the earth in the lava.’

Hal watched her work, more interested in the way her naked body gleamed in the sunlight, like molten gold, and the way her small breasts changed shape as she wielded the stick vigorously, than
in the crystalline lumps of yellow earth she was prising from the bank of the ravine.

‘What do you use this earth for?’ he asked, without rising from his grassy nest.

‘It has many uses. It is a sovereign cure for headaches and colic. If I mix it with the juice of the verbena berry it will soothe palpitations of the heart and ease a woman’s monthly
courses …’ She reeled off a list of the ailments that she could treat with it, but to Hal it did not seem to have any special virtue, and looked like any other clod of dry earth. The
basket was so heavy by now that, on their return to camp, Hal had to take it from her.

That night while the band sat around the fire and held their final council before beginning the long journey east, Sukeena pounded the clods of earth in the crude stone mortar she had made and
mixed the powder into a pot of water. She heated this over the fire, then came to sit beside Hal as he went over the order of march for the following day. He was allocating weapons and loads to the
men. The weight and bulk of each load would be dictated by the age and strength of the man carrying it.

Suddenly Hal broke off and sniffed the air. ‘Sweet heaven and all the apostles!’ he cried. ‘What have you in this pot, Sukeena?’

‘I told you, Gundwane. ’Tis the yellow flowers.’ She looked alarmed as he rushed back to her, picked her up in his arms, tossed her high in the air and caught her as she came
down, skirts fluttering around her.

‘’Tis not any type of flower at all! I would know that smell in hell itself where it truly belongs!’ He kissed her until she pushed his face away.

‘Are you mad?’ She laughed and gasped for breath.

‘Mad with love for you!’ he said, and turned her to face the men who had watched this display in amazement. ‘Lads, the Princess has created the miracle which will save us
all!’

‘You speak in riddles!’ said Aboli.

‘Yes!’ the others cried. ‘Speak plain, Captain.’

‘I’ll speak plain enough so even the slowest-witted of you sea-rats will understand my words.’ Hal laughed at their confusion. ‘Her pot is filled with brimstone! Magical
yellow brimstone!’

It was Ned Tyler who understood first, for he was the master gunner. He also leaped to his feet, rushed to kneel over the pot and inhaled the fumes as though they were the smoke of an opium
pipe.

‘The captain’s right, lads,’ he howled with glee. ‘It’s brimstone sulphur, sure enough.’

S
ukeena led a party, headed by Aboli and Big Daniel, back to the ravine in which she had discovered the sulphur deposit, and they returned to
camp staggering under their loads of the yellow earth, packed into baskets or sewn into sacks made of animal skins.

While Sukeena supervised the boiling and leaching of the sulphur crystals from the ore, one-eyed Johannes and Zwaantie tended the slow fires, banked with earth, in which the baulks of cedarwood
were being gradually reduced to pure black nuggets of charcoal.

Hal and Sabah’s band climbed the steep mountainside above the camp to reach the cliffs in which the multitudes of rock rabbits had their colonies. Sabah’s men clung to the precipice
like flies to the wall as they scraped away the amber coloured crystals of dried urine. The little animals defecated in communal middens, and while the round pellets of dung rolled away, the urine
dribbled down and soaked the rock face. They discovered that, in some places, this coating was several feet thick.

They lowered skin sacks of these odoriferous deposits to the foot of the cliff, then lugged them down to the camp. They worked in shifts to keep the fires burning all day and night under the
clay pots, extracting the sulphur from the powdered earth and the saltpetre from the animal excreta.

Ned Tyler and Hal, the two gunners, hovered over these steaming pots like a pair of alchemists, straining the liquid and reducing it with heat. Finally they dried the thick residual pastes in
the sun. From the first brewing of the stinking compounds they were left with a store of dried crystalline powders that filled three large pots.

When crushed the charcoal was a smooth black powder, while the saltpetre was pale brown and fine as sea salt. When Hal placed a small pinch of it on his tongue it was indeed as pungent and salty
as the sea. The flowers of sulphur were daffodil yellow and almost odourless.

The entire band of fugitives gathered round to watch when, at last, Hal started to mix the three constituents in Sukeena’s stone mortar. He measured the proportions and first ground
together the charcoal and the sulphur, for without the final vital ingredient these were inert and harmless. Then he added the saltpetre and gingerly combined it with the dark grey primary powder
until he had a flask filled with what looked and smelt like veritable gunpowder.

Aboli handed him one of the muskets and he measured a charge, dribbled it down the barrel, stuffed a wad of fibrous dried bark on top of it and rodded home a round pebble he had selected from
the sandbank of the stream. He would not waste a lead ball in this experiment.

Meanwhile, Big Daniel had set up a wooden target on the opposite bank. While Hal squatted and took his aim the rest spread out on either side of him and plugged their ears with their fingers. An
expectant silence fell as he took aim and pressed the trigger.

There was a thunderous report and a blinding cloud of smoke. The wooden target shattered and toppled down the bank into the water. An exultant cheer went up from everyone, and they pounded each
other upon the back and danced delirious jigs of triumph in the sunlight.

‘It’s as fine a grade of powder as any you can find in the naval stores in Greenwich,’ Ned Tyler opined, ‘but it will have to be properly caked afore we can bag it and
carry it away.’

To this end Hal ordered a large clay pot to be placed behind a grass screen at the edge of the camp, and all were strictly enjoined to make use of it on every possible occasion. Even the two
women went behind the screen to make their demure contributions. Once the pot was filled, the gunpowder was moistened into paste with the urine, then formed into briquettes, which dried hard in the
sun. These were packed into reed baskets for ease of transporting.

‘We will grind the cakes as we need them,’ Hal explained to Sukeena. ‘Now we do not have to carry such a weight of dried fish and meat for we will hunt as we travel. If there
is such an abundance of game, as Sabah tells us there is, we will not go short of fresh meat.’

Ten days later than they had first intended, the band was ready to set out into the east. Hal, as the navigator, and Sabah, who had travelled that route before, led the column; Althuda and the
three musketeers were in the centre to guard the women and little Bobby, while Aboli and Big Daniel brought up the rear under their ponderous burdens.

They travelled with the grain and run of the range, not attempting to scale the high ground but following the valleys and crossing only through the passes between the high peaks. Hal estimated
the distances travelled by eye and time, and the direction with the leather-cased compass. These he marked on his charts every evening before the light faded.

At night they camped in the open, for the weather was mild and they were too tired to build a shelter. When they woke each dawn, their skin blankets, that Sabah called karosses, were soaked with
dew.

As Sabah had warned, it was six days of hard travel through the labyrinth of valleys before they reached the steep eastern escarpment and looked down from its crest on the lower ground.

Far out to their right they could make out the blue stain of the ocean merging with the paler heron’s-egg blue of the sky, but below the land was not the true plains that Hal had expected
but was broken up with hillocks, undulating grassy glades and streaks of dark green forest that seemed to follow the courses of the many small rivers that criss-crossed the littoral as they
meandered down to the sea.

To their left, another range of jagged blue mountains marched parallel to the sea, forming a rampart that guarded the mysterious hinterland of the continent. Hal’s sharp eyesight picked
out the dark stains on the golden grassy plains, moving like cloud shadows when there were no clouds in the sky. He saw the haze of dust that followed the moving herds of wild game, and now and
then he spotted the reflection of sunlight from tusks of ivory or from a polished horn.

‘This land swarms with life,’ he murmured to Sukeena, who stood at his shoulder. ‘There may be strange beasts down there that man has never before laid eyes upon. Perhaps even
fire-breathing dragons and unicorns and griffons.’ Sukeena shivered and hugged her shoulders, even though the sun was high and warm.

‘I saw such creatures drawn on the charts I brought for you,’ she agreed.

There was a path before them, beaten by the great round pads of elephant and signposted by piles of their fibrous yellow dung, that wound down the slope, picking the most favourable gradient,
skirting the deep ravines and dangerous gorges, and Hal followed it.

As they descended, the features of the landscape below became more apparent. Hal could even recognize some of the creatures that moved upon it. The black mass of bovine animals surmounted by a
golden haze of dust and a cloud of hovering tick birds, sparkling white in the sunlight, must be the wild buffalo that Aboli had spoken of.
Nyati
, he had called them, when he had warned Hal
of their ferocity. There must be several hundred of these beasts in each of the three separate herds that he had under his eye.

Beyond the nearest herd of buffalo was a small gathering of elephants. Hal remembered them well from his previous sightings long ago on the shores of the lagoon. But he had never before seen
them in such numbers. At the very least there were twenty great grey cows each with a small calf, like a piglet, at her heels. Dotted upon the plain like hillocks of grey granite were three or four
solitary bulls: he could barely credit the size of these patriarchs or the length and girth of their gleaming yellow ivory tusks.

There were other creatures, not as large as the elephant bulls, but massive and grey none the less, which at first he took for elephant also, but as they descended towards the low ground he was
able to make out the black horns, some as long as a man is tall, that decorated their great creased grey snouts. He remembered then what Sabah had told him of these savage beasts, one of which had
speared and killed Johannes’ woman with its deadly horn. These ‘rhenosters’, which was Sabah’s name for them, seemed solitary in nature for they stood apart from others of
the same kind, each in the shade of its own tree.

As Hal strode along at the head of the tiny column, he heard the light tread of feet coming up behind him, footsteps that he had come to know and love so well. Sukeena had left her place at in
the centre of the line, as she often did when she found some excuse to walk with him for a while.

She slipped her hand into his and kept pace with him. ‘I did not want to go alone into this new land. I wanted to walk beside you,’ she said softly, then looked up at the sky.
‘See the way the wind veers into the south and the clouds crouch on the mountain tops like a pack of wild beasts in ambush? There is a storm coming.’

Her warning proved timely. Hal was able to lead them to a cave in the mountainside to shelter before the storm struck. They lay up there for three long days and nights while the storm raged
without, but when they emerged at last, the land was washed clean and the sky was bright and burning blue.

B
efore the
Golden Bough
had made her offing from Good Hope and come onto her true course to round the Cape, Captain Christopher Llewellyn was already regretting having taken on board his paying passenger.

He had found out soon enough that Colonel Cornelius Schreuder was a difficult man to like, arrogant, outspoken and highly opinionated. He held firm and unwavering views on every subject that was
raised, and was never diffident in giving expression to these. ‘He picks up enemies as a dog picks up fleas,’ Llewellyn told his mate.