The Crocodile's Last Embrace (21 page)

She couldn’t have asked for a better ally. The cat, though not nocturnal by nature, had a keen sense of hearing that more than made up for a lack of predatory night vision. Twice during the night he growled softly when an elephant trumpeted from across the Athi. And he heard Holly stir from the Overland before she did.

“Only going to see to nature’s call,” Holly said grumpily when Jade stood by the fire watching him, her rifle cradled across her arms. Biscuit accompanied him at Jade’s command of “Guard,” escorting the man back to the vehicle before rejoining her. Only when the sun rose and the camp stirred did Biscuit trot off into the brush to find some unsuspecting breakfast.

Biscuit had returned and was eating his usual ground bird as Bev rousted up the girls and Emily. She was assigning them breakfast duty when a Kikuyu man ran into camp. Jade recognized him as one of the men from Jelani’s village.

“Memsahib Simba Jike,” he said between deep gulps of air. “You must come to village,” he continued in Swahili.

Jade answered in the same language. “Why?”

“Bwana Nyati very sick. Speaks out of head.”

“Spit fire!” Jade swore in English before replying in Swahili, “I am coming.” She expected the man to wait for her, but he simply turned and ran back to his village, splashing across the shallows of the river on the way.

Beverly joined her. “Is there trouble?” she asked softly.

Jade nodded. “Harry’s sick at the village. Sounds like he’s raving.”

“Malaria?”

Jade paused, remembering his visit. “No, I don’t think so. He drank my tea. A
lot
of it all at once, and it had brewed even longer than usual.”

Beverly gasped. “Your tea was poisoned!”

“I’d bet my rifle on it now. It would certainly go a long way towards explaining my recent hallucinations.” She knew it didn’t explain her vision of David in France, but at present, she wasn’t ready to deal with that. Jade looked long and hard at the old Overland, where Holly still lay in the back. She could hear his soft snores through the closed doors. “I’m taking him with me. I don’t trust him out of my sight right now.”

“I could have the girls bandage him up like a mummy,” Beverly suggested.

The image brought a smile to Jade’s face. “Tempting, but you have enough to deal with without him.”

Bev nodded, a coy smile playing on her lips. “These little darlings? But what are you going to do about Harry? He should have a proper doctor.”

“Who? Dr. Mathews is away. I don’t know Dr. Dymant well enough. Most of the others are in the government’s employ, except for Burkitt, and his solution would probably be to dump Harry in the river to shock him out of it. Besides, none of them are here. I’d rather trust Jelani’s skills right now.”

“Wait a minute.” Bev raced back to the supplies and returned with a box of her black tea and a tin of crackers. “At least see if you can get some of this down him.”

“I might not be back before it’s time to take the girls home,” Jade said. “Can you manage without me? You’ll have to take my motorcycle. Do you remember what I taught you?”

“Of course. It will be fun. I’ll take Helen in the sidecar. Take the new Overland. We’ll have more room to stow the gear on the top of the old Express. Some of the girls can sit on boxes in the rear if we need to. I’ll have them back to town before lights-on,” Bev said, referring to the required six-o’clock headlamp law. “And then you and I are going to gather with Avery and sort out this
shauri
.” She grinned and nodded to the Overland. “Don’t toss him around too much, darling. I’d hate to ding up the car. It’s hired, you know.”

Jade started up the vehicle with Biscuit on the bench beside her. She took off in a rush, not bothering to go up to the bridge. Instead she took the river at the shallows and made the turn to the village faster than caution dictated. She was gratified to hear Holly’s startled yelp in the back followed by some ripe curses.

“Have you gone mad? What the blazes are you doing? I demand you stop this car at once!”

“If I do, it’ll only be to leave you behind. As far as I’m concerned, Mr. Holly, you can walk back to Nairobi or Thika or to the devil.” She punctuated her statement with another sharp and completely unnecessary turn, slamming him into the side of car. She didn’t trust Holly and intended to establish straightaway that she was in charge. “You can hike up the mountain if you’d like and hide out.”

“No, thank you. I believe if I—” He bit off the words as his head knocked against the ceiling. “Ouch! If I survive this kidnapping I shall take an extended holiday to the Blue Posts Hotel and hide there.”

“Suit yourself.” Jade rounded the northernmost part of Ol Donyo Sabuk and followed the river southeast to Jelani’s village.

“Where are we going?”

“Kikuyu village. There’s a sick man there.”

“Oh, dear. Nothing contagious, I hope.”

“Never know. But if it is, it’s at least a new place for you to hide.”

Holly’s voice rose to a frightened squeal. “I’m not staying in any stinking native village.”

Jade smiled and made another quick turn, ostensibly to avoid a rock. Behind her, Holly banged into the other side. “You should hold on to something back there. Biscuit keeps his seat better than you do.”

She passed the Kikuyu messenger, who seemed in no hurry to return to his village. Shortly after that she saw Harry’s truck, abandoned farther down the Athi. Jade stopped her car. “Mr. Holly, can you drive?”

Holly twisted around and grabbed hold of the rear bench for support. “Even if I couldn’t, I would just to get out of this vehicle alive.”

“Good. That’s Harry Hascombe’s truck. Drive it to the village.”

She got out and waited while Holly started the truck and put it into gear without too much grinding. Then she pointed downriver, got back in her Overland, and followed him. They left both vehicles below Jelani’s village and, after prodding Holly with her rifle butt, they started into the narrow winding path, Biscuit in the lead. Several village women and their children met them halfway.

“Simba Jike,” they cried. “
Kwa haraka!
”
Quickly!

They turned and led Jade and Holly along the pathway, pausing to look over their shoulders to make certain that Jade was following. When she nearly collided with the woman directly in front of her, Jade shooed them all on with a flap of her hands.

“Bwana Nyati very sick.”

Holly hugged himself and shied away from the palisade sticks, the stray chickens, the goats, and the people. “This is intolerable,” he said. “I want to wait outside.”

“You’re not leaving my sight,” Jade replied. “Not after yesterday’s stunt.” She took hold of his left elbow and pulled him along like a recalcitrant child. The women led her to a hut at the edge of the village. It had the look of abandonment, with missing thatch in the roof, but the added sunlight and ventilation could only improve Harry’s chances.

Harry lay faceup on a mat woven from leaves. His shirt was missing and his hands were tied at the wrists to two wooden stakes so that his arms were drawn out to the sides. A row of long scratches ran across his chest where he’d clawed at his skin. An old Kikuyu woman knelt beside his head, dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth. On second glance, Jade recognized both the woman—Jelani’s mother—and the cloth—Harry’s missing shirt. His breathing was shallow and rapid, more like that of a panting animal than a sleeping man. Biscuit chirped once, then voiced his distress in soft churring calls.

Mumbi glared at Jade. “Has the crocodile come for you yet?” she snapped. “She hides from you in full day as a harmless log, waiting to pull you under.”

Jelani stepped into the hut, a gourd bowl in his hand. “Good, you are here, Simba Jike. Mother, you may go.” He nodded to the door and Mumbi left, leaving Harry’s shirt in a bowl of water near him.

“Beware of
mamba jike
,” she whispered as she passed Jade. Jade was glad Mumbi left without striking her on the head again.

“Why are his hands tied?” asked Holly, his voice edged with scorn. “What have you done with him, you filthy native?”

“Shut up, Mr. Holly!” snapped Jade. “I suspect Harry needed to be restrained.”

“He tried to harm himself,” said Jelani.

Jade knelt down where Jelani’s mother had been and picked up the wet shirt. She squeezed out some of the excess water and dabbed Harry’s face and neck. Biscuit added his raspy tongue to the cause, licking Harry’s arm. “Tell me everything,” Jade said.

“It is quickly told. Bwana Nyati was found by his gun bearer wandering along the river, shooting into the water and screaming. The bwana did not even recognize this man. When he had emptied his rifle, Nakuru wrestled the bwana to the ground.” Jelani shook his head. “It was a battle to see. Nakuru is a strong man, but Bwana Nyati fought like one possessed. Three of the village men saw this and did not know what to do.”

“They just watched?” Jade asked.

“Who should they help?” Jelani asked. “They did not care to find themselves in prison for harming a white man.”

“Then Nakuru managed to subdue Mr. Hascombe?” asked Jade. “Did he bring him here?”

Jelani shook his head. “No. When the battle ended, both men lay as fallen warriors on the grass. My people brought them both here.” He jerked his head to the side. “Nakuru is resting in another hut, but he bears many bruises and perhaps a broken arm.”

“Oh, dear,” murmured Jade. “He’ll have to see a doctor at that horrible native hospital in Nairobi to have that set.” She remembered that Dr. Mathews often visited villages, but she had no idea where he was right now. Fort Hall? Too far. Perhaps Dymant would treat a Nyamwezi man. He was willing to take care of the Indians, and there were few British doctors who cared to do that either.

“I have set Nakuru’s arm,” said Jelani. When Jade looked up suddenly, he added, “You forget, Simba Jike, that I am a healer. There were broken bones in our villages long before British doctors came to fix them.”

“Yes, of course,” Jade said, sorry that she’d touched yet again on the issue of British rule, which rankled Jelani so much. “I didn’t mean that—”

Jelani squatted beside her. “Do not distress yourself, Simba Jike,” he said with a slight smile. “I know you are my friend.” He held out the gourd bowl. “This is a healing drink. It will help him sweat out the rest of the poison. I have gotten one bowlful down him during the night, but perhaps you can get him to take some.”

Jade hesitated a moment and sniffed the concoction. It smelled mildly fragrant, reminiscent of lemongrass or sassafras, something cleansing. She took a tentative sip and found it palatable. Biscuit tried to push his nose into it, but Jade elbowed him away.

“It is what I gave to Irungu after Mutahi gave him the same poison,” Jelani added.

Jade looked up sharply. “Irungu is the man who accused Mutahi of witching him, isn’t he?” Harry stirred and moaned, and she turned her attention back to him, cradling his head and holding the gourd to his lips.

“Yes,” said Jelani. “Irungu’s actions were those of Bwana Nyati. Fighting things we cannot see, shouting and clawing.”

“I would like to talk to that Mutahi again,” Jade said, “and find out more about what happened.”

“As would I, but Mutahi has gone. Irungu says he had nothing to do with Mutahi’s running away, but I am not sure. Irungu was very angry.”

Harry moaned and coughed as some of the brew went down the wrong pipe. Jade put the gourd down and wiped his mouth. “Harry,” she called softly. “Jelani, I think we can untie his wrists now. I want him to sit up.”

Jelani cut the leather cords, leaving them wrapped around his wrists. Jade shifted her hand under Harry’s head and propped it up on her knee. Biscuit padded around to the other side and butted his big, blockish head against Harry’s shoulder.

“Harry, it’s me, Jade. You’re safe.”

Harry’s eyes flashed for a moment, darting wildly from Jelani to Biscuit before settling on Jade’s face. They opened wider as though recognition dawned on him. His sun-browned face seemed paler and more drawn, and he started shivering.

“Easy, Harry,” Jade said, her voice soft and reassuring. “I need you to drink this.” She raised the gourd to his lips again. Harry’s lips moved as his mouth reached for the drink. He took several swallows and fell back against Jade’s leg. “Don’t try to talk.”

That suggestion had the opposite effect. He began to blurt out one question after another. “Where am I? What happened? Where’s Nakuru?” He looked back at Jelani. “Isn’t that the boy who came—”

“Shh,” Jade admonished. “Yes, that’s Jelani. You’re in his village. His people found you and Nakuru injured and brought you here.” When Harry heard of Nakuru’s injury, he looked wildly at Jade and clutched at her arm. “He’s all right,” Jade assured him. “His arm may be broken.”

“How?”

“As I understand it,
you
did it. Jelani says that you were raving out of your mind, shooting your rifle at the water. Nakuru tried to restrain you and you fought him.”

Harry sat up with Jade’s help and ran his hands through his hair and across the back of his neck. His shoulders twitched as though something was tickling them. “I . . . I don’t remember. . . .” He stopped when one of the dangling leather straps brushed his face. “What’s this?”

“They had to restrain you as well. You would have hurt yourself,” Jade said. “Here, hold out your hands and I’ll get them off.”

The straps had been tied with a little room to spare so that they didn’t cut into Harry’s wrists when he struggled. Jade pulled her knife from her boot and carefully slid it under the leather, slicing out, away from his arms. The straps fell to the ground and Harry rubbed his wrists.

“I suppose I owe you my life,” he said to Jelani.

“No, Bwana Nyati,” said Jelani. “You owe it to Nakuru.”

Harry looked around the hut and, for the first time, noticed Mr. Holly standing by the door. “What are you doing here?”