Stars Over Sarawak (9 page)

CHAPTER SIX

THE piercing cry of the gibbons wakened her at dawn, their
wak-wak-wak
breaking the deep silence of the jungle.

 Daylight. She sighed with relief, her thoughts on those long sleepless hours she had spent last night. After the storm had abated she had again risen and lifted the tent flap. All was still except for the drip, drip of rain from the trees, but later the inevitable cicadas had filled the air with the whirring together of their wings. Carl Denver had come from his well-lighted tent and had stood looking at the river. He seemed part of the awesome scene, a dark forbidding figure in the black mysterious jungle. Without so much as a glance at her tent he returned to his; she saw half a dozen or so enormous cicadas enter with him, attracted by the light, heard and saw him swatting them against the glowing sides of the tent.

 What a toughened creature he was! She herself would have been petrified at the idea of those insects — which in Borneo were almost as large as sparrows — invading her sleeping quarters.

 She was just suppressing a shudder caused by her thoughts when, turning her head, she felt her heart come right up into her throat. On her air pillow she saw a bright yellow eye, the eye of the lizard which lay unmoving, a crocodile in miniature. As she stared, her voice caught by fear so that she could not cry out, its throat swelled and a sound like a starting motor issued from it. Roanna did then utter a scream, remembering that Malcolm had told her that these particular lizards bite.

 'What—?' Only seconds had gone by before Carl Denver was there, his swift glance taking in the scene at once. 'Don't move!' Before she knew it he had. snatched up a blanket and thrown it over the lizard. 'Out,' he commanded, and Roanna was only too eager to obey.

 'They're dangerous, aren't they?' She was shivering in the dawn mist as she faced him outside the tent.

 'Your scream disturbed it and it might have struck. But the correct thing to do is simply to shoo one of these creatures away. It would have gone had you done that.'

 Her eyes widened.

 'It would?'

 'Of course.' The deep amber eyes raked her disparagingly. 'To scream was the worst thing you could have done since were it to be frightened then without doubt it would strike.'

 She felt stupid, and small, especially as Tangan and Agwai were standing there, curious to learn what was happening. Carl said a few brief words to them and this produced grins and flashes of gold-filled teeth.

 'I suppose you consider me foolish.' Her head went up now as she endeavoured to acquire a little dignity. 'I'm sorry I troubled you, Mr. Denver; I shall know what to do next time.'

 The hard month actually quivered with mirth.

 'You'll know what to do, Mrs. Barrett, but I doubt very much whether you'll do it. More probably you'll let out a scream again,' he added with an edge of contempt.

 She made no response, but glanced around her. And as she did so she realized that Carl had been about to have a 'shower', for suspended from the branch of a tree was a bucket on a rope, while on a small folding stool nearby was a towel and a tablet of soap. Her vision making one jump ahead, she saw herself coming from her tent, all unknowing ... and finding Carl standing naked beneath the bucket! Naturally colour tinted her cheeks and, his glance moving from her face to the paraphernalia that had caught her attention, he allowed himself another amused smile.

 'You have a watch?' he asked and, surprised by the question, she merely nodded her head. 'Then use it from now on and don't emerge from your tent until half past six. I ought to have told you last night.' He seemed quite untroubled by what might have happened this morning, had not the incident of the lizard occurred. 'If you want a wash you can have water' brought into your tent by one. of the boys; if you'd prefer a shower then Tangan will fix up a bucket for you in some sheltered place.'

 'I'll wash in my tent—' Turning, she glanced inside. 'The lizard?'

 'Will have gone. However, if you're still scared I'll get Tangan to search around for you.'

 'I would prefer that — if you don't mind?'

 'Not at all,' he shrugged, and left her. A moment later Tangan was searching about in the tent; his gestures told her that the lizard had gone and she reentered. The water was brought — icy cold water that set her teeth chattering as she used it on her body. She was just about to put on the same clothes, soiled as they now were, when through the tent flap a long brown arm appeared and a garment dropped to the floor.

 'Thank you,' she called gratefully, not knowing which of the Natives had brought the brightly-coloured cotton dress.

 She put it on, with nothing at all underneath, as she wanted to wash everything of her own. This she did before breakfast, going off to hang the garments on a tree to dry in the sun, which was already climbing steadily and giving off sufficient heat to dry them quite quickly.

 Carl looked her over with a discerning eye but, somehow, she experienced no embarrassment at the thought that he might know she had nothing on except the dress he had sent her. Of necessity she must wash her clothes and therefore she had to manage without them.

 'Rather large, by the look of it,' was Carl's comment when she joined him at the table on which the breakfast was set out. Tangan and Agwai were sitting on the river bank, talking together and eating their own food. Carl's breakfast consisted of a cereal and tinned milk, and ready packed toast which he spread thinly with butter and marmalade.

 Roanna naturally had the same, wondering while she ate whether or not she ought to offer to pay for her food. Later, perhaps, she might be able to broach the subject. Certainly she must at some time make the offer even though she had a shrewd suspicion that Carl would firmly refuse to accept payment from her — which of course could only be made when they returned to civilization, as her money was deposited in the. safe at the hotel.

 'I enjoyed that,' she said when eventually she and Carl were drinking their second cup of coffee. 'It's the first time I've camped out.' Her eyes met his, their smoke veil lifted because she felt strangely happy, sitting here in the open air, with the jungle sounds of morning all around, and no other intrusions into the. tranquil sunlit scene. Carl's eyes flickered in an odd kind of way she had noticed once before. He seemed to have a fleeting interest in her and she found herself feeling almost honoured by it, since his attitude up till now had been chill and dispassionate to say the least. She fluttered him a shy smile hoping he would return it, but the severity of his mouth remained. Yet those disconcerting eyes still held their interest for another second or two before they were lowered and he seemed more interested in the coffee in his cup than anything else. However, after a short while he spoke to her, informing her that by noon they would be in a part of the ulu in which he wished to make camp for two clays in order to survey the region. The stop after that would be at the Pa Tali longhouse which was situated on a tributary of the Dajang.

 'We'll be staying the night at the longhouse,' he added with a faint flash of amusement in the look he gave her.

 'I shan't mind so long as you're there,' she returned with a deepening of her smile.

 'Your confidence is gratifying,' he commented dryly, 'but it could be misplaced.'

 'You wouldn't take me to the longhouse unless you knew for sure that I'd be safe. You know the chief, obviously?'

 'I know him well. I've stayed at his village on several occasions.'

 'Will you ask about Rolfe for me?'

 'That's my intention,' he said, surprising her. And he added with a tinge of satire, 'We must do what we can to make the path clear for you and your — er — ideal.'

 Her mouth tightened as her happiness faded. Why was he so infuriatingly sarcastic? Sure that the anger this sarcasm had created was portrayed in her expression she turned her head away from his keen and amused gaze. Acutely aware as she was of the debt of gratitude she owed him, she knew she must contrive always to hide any anger which his references to Andrew aroused.

 'I sincerely hope we can find something out,' was all she said, but with a touch of dejection in her tone that could not possibly escape him. Misunderstanding its cause, he reminded her that whatever the outcome of her inquiries she and Andrew could eventually marry.

 'It merely means that, should you draw a complete blank, then you'll have a longer wait. Surely that won't trouble you overmuch?'

 She thought of the family she wanted to raise, but as before she could not bring herself to mention that she had hoped to have had all her children before she was thirty. Carl Denver would without doubt find something maddeningly sarcastic to say to a confession like that.

 'I expect we shall have to resign ourselves to a delay,' she murmured, a frown settling on her forehead.

 Faintly he shook his head, looking unsmilingly at her as she turned to face him again.

 'I shall never understand the mind of a woman who, having once failed in her marriage, is eager to embark on the same path again.'

 She saw a glint in his eyes like hardened steel. He was thinking of his own marriage, that was for sure, and inwardly vowing that he himself would never risk making a second mistake.

 'I'm an optimist, Mr. Denver. I don't expect to make another failure.'

 The now familiar gleam of amusement stole into his eyes.

 'No one ever does, Mrs. Barrett. Unfortunately success or failure in marriage is dependent on two people, not one.' He looked steadily at her, but she had the impression that his thoughts were once again centred on his own marriage. 'It depends on you and the person you marry.'

 'Of course,' with confidence. 'Marriage with Andrew could not possibly fail.'

 'Because he isn't the forceful type?'

 She nodded.

 'After my experience with Rolfe I was determined never to marry the forceful type again.'

 Carl reached for his cup and took a drink of its contents.

 'You're afraid?'

 'Yes,' she replied candidly, 'I'm afraid.'

 'And so you go to the other extreme, it appears?'

 'That's absolutely correct, Mr. Denver. I chose Andrew solely because he was the gentle, thoughtful type.' She sent him a slanting look as she half turned from his amused scrutiny. 'Please don't mention the colourless adjectives again,' she begged.

 'I wasn't intending to.' He paused a moment, his glance caught by a pair of crested jays which had alighted on the branch of a nearby tree. They stayed for a mere few seconds before they flew off again, into the dense thicket on the other side of the lake. 'What I was interested in was the word solely. You say you chose this man solely because he was gentle and thoughtful.'

 'I love him as well,' she maintained at once.

 'You do?' A very strange inflection in his voice as he added, 'Are you quite sure of that, Mrs. Barrett?'

 Indignantly she looked at him.

 'But of course I'm sure!'

 A shrug and a silence; quite plainly the subject was no longer of any interest to Carl Denver.

Several hours later they were again having a meal together — lunch this time, and it was eaten under the thick canopy of foliage which grew some short distance from the river, and the spot where the two
prahus
were tied up. Having had their quick snack Tangan and Agwai were now fixing up Carl's tent; later they would make themselves a shelter, Carl had mentioned. This shelter would be made from materials available — dead branches of trees and the large leaves which the Natives used to thatch their longhouses.

 Immediately the meal was over Carl went off, a camera over his shoulder and a large canvas bag on his back.

 'Entertain yourself as best you can,' he told her indifferently, and added, 'But don't go away from the camp.'

 It was half past five when he returned; Roanna had wanted to get the meal ready, but she was not sure what time he would be back. Tangan obviously understood him because although he had everything at hand he made no start with the meal until he saw Carl approaching, his canvas bag bulging, his face dusty, and grimed with dried sweat. But he came with long easy strides, his vigour unimpaired by the demanding work in which he had been engaged.

 Agwai spoke to him and he nodded, handing his bag and camera to the man. A shower had been fixed up for him in a sheltered place and when within half an hour he reappeared he looked as spruce and fresh as if he had just come from his own modern bathroom at home. He wore shorts and a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up above the elbow, revealing muscled arms, very brown and covered with fine dark hair.

 Curious to know just exactly what he had been doing, Roanna made a subtle endeavour to find out by saying, once they were seated at the table,

 'Your bag looked heavy, Mr. Denver.'

 'It was rather heavy.' He helped himself to the vegetables she passed him and began to eat his meal.

 'It must be very arduous work?'

 'Sometimes it is; at others there is no actual physical work involved.'

 A small silence and then,

 'Malcolm said you've been doing this surveying work for a long time.'