A Lion by the Mane

by Edna Dawes

  ‘How did you get free?’ asked Jan tautly.

  ‘You would have done better to make me comfortable in the cab of that jeep instead of throwing me in the back like so much merchandise. It didn’t take me long to find a rough edge, and two hours or so are quite long enough to cut through thin cord. After that, it was a matter of waiting my chance. I knew I’d never have it all the time you had the gun, but she was fooled as easily as a babe.’

  Margaret looked upward through blurred eyes to the figure standing so still on the crest of the kopjie. ‘I’m sorry, Jan. I don’t seem to be any good at fighting your battles, after all.’

  He had wanted to see her taken down a peg or two, make just one mistake to prove she was human! Right now, she was dirty, unattractive, and beaten to her knees with remorse, but it didn’t give him any pleasure. The hot rage of possessive loyalty rushed through him as if she were one of his sisters . . . no, more than one of his sisters, and he took a quick step down the hill.

  ‘Don’t move!’ screamed Van Heerdon wildly, and gave Margaret’s arm a twist to add weight to his words.

  Jan stopped and fought to control himself. He would have to think his way out of this one instead of rushing blindly at it as he usually did. His actions now were vitally important to the life and safety of the girl who had been through so much with him.

  The helicopter appeared to be coming nearer so Van Heerdon moved, slowly backwards at first, until he and Margaret were hidden by foliage, then he grabbed her wrist and made her run. Soon, they were in thickening undergrowth searching for a hiding-place from the pursuers above and on the ground.

  As she was pulled relentlessly on, Margaret had to step over knee-high bush which scratched her bare legs and tugged at her crumpled skirt. Her thick hair clung across her face, half-blinding her with dark strands, and her blouse stuck wetly to her back. Now and again, a grunt or rustle would indicate some other presence in that tangle of vegetation, but the creatures who scuttled from their path were ignorant and unheeding of the girl’s predicament. The survival of the fittest was the lore of the bush, and it was each creature for himself, as they so well knew.

  Her ankle turned on an uneven surface and she staggered, almost falling, but Van Heerdon turned to her and tugged at her wrist.

  ‘Keep going,’ he grated out.

  All manner of thoughts flicked though her mind during that nightmare scramble. Why had she not been more alert? Her proud boast that she could cope with any emergency was like rice paper beneath the onslaught of a hammer. All along, Jan had coped with the situation in a way which made her stupid attempts to take command look what they were — an interfering nuisance.

  How he must hate her for her part in this affair! What a ridiculous figure she must cut in his eyes! What had he called her . . . a militant do-gooder? All she had done was drag him down with her righteous attempts at guidance. She was the one who had needed guidance, not him. Why had she not realized from the beginning that her motive was not to convert him from his chosen path nor mother him in the manner of a small boy? From that day at Sea Point, the emotion driving her to remain beside him had been love . . . a misplaced conception of it, perhaps, but love, nevertheless. It was heartbreaking that she should cause his ultimate downfall.

  In this blanket of misery she stumbled after Van Heerdon, stopping when he stopped, and moving on when a jerk on her arm told her to. The vegetation was thicker here and the man was pushing a way through head-high growth, sweating profusely and growing more and more savage. Suddenly, he broke through into a clearing and stopped dead. There, in the centre, lay an ancient Cape Buffalo who had chosen this place as somewhere quiet to rest from the heat of the day. He was old, he was tired, and he was infuriated by this intruder.

  Van Heerdon froze at the sight of the great horned animal, but not so the buffalo at the blurred shape of its irritant. The beast lumbered to its feet and lowered the great head with an outraged bellow.

  ‘No!’ screamed Van Heerdon, and turned, but Margaret was in his way, so he ran forward across the clearing in a mad panic to gain the safety of the trees. The buffalo’s horns caught the man’s legs below the knees and sent him sprawling on the dry grass. It took a matter of seconds for the angry animal to turn, and the same time for Van Heerdon to be trampled and gored beyond recognition. The grunts of the incensed beast and the screams of his victim rang in Margaret’s ears, and as she watched, it seemed as though the tribal drums were beating again, louder ever louder, until her whole body was shaking with them.

  Tiring of an adversary who had no fight left in him, the buffalo became conscious that his peace was still threatened. His weak eyes registered another blur by the trees, but his superb sense of smell told him he had not removed the menace entirely and he swung his head round towards Margaret. The rhythm of the drums had quickened, and heat seemed to be pushing her down into the earth. Her face was wet and her vision blurred as the creature charged across the clearing, but a total immobility had descended on the girl’s limbs, rooting her to the spot.

  The impact came sooner than she expected, and from a different direction. Something hit her from the side knocking her into the scrub where her back was badly grazed on thick thorn branches, and her head made contact with a tree trunk in a deafening crack. Almost at once, a similar crack followed by the sound of a heavy weight falling into vegetation! The paralysing grip on her brain suddenly lifted as she realized the cracks had been gun shots, and the buffalo was lying lifeless a mere ten yards from where she lay. The vivid sky above the circle of tree-tops was suddenly full of wheeling birds and the quick moment of silence was broken again by harsh squawks. Next minute, Jan was there, kneeling beside her with that same look blazing in his eyes that he had had when he drove the police truck to Myala.

  ‘Did you kill it?’ she asked weakly.

  ‘Yes. Sorry if I spoiled your opportunity to study the Cape Buffalo in its natural habitat.’

  She flung herself at him to be enclosed in his arms and was still there ten minutes later when a party of Rangers and policemen broke into the clearing from the opposite side.

  The return to headquarters in a helicopter was extremely swift. In no time at all she was lying in the bed she had occupied before, having been given a bromide by the police doctor, who had also tended her many cuts. They had both been given a meal, but Jan was facing a barrage of questions which were not exactly friendly enquiries.

  The voices of the men on the veranda carried on the still air, and she was kept awake by the growing fear that Jan was gradually being talked down. She heard him tell the police the whole story, ending with how he had seen the revolver from his elevated position on the hill where the sun glinting on the metal had given him the advantage over the man on level ground. He had followed Van Heerdon’s progress through the thornbrush which had been made easy by the fact that the other man was a city dweller and had no experience of stealthy movement in the wilds. The noise of the hideous death beneath the hoofs of the buffalo had guided him to the spot in time to save Margaret, and the gunshots had indicated their presence to the touring police parties.

  She then heard Chris’s voice, so like his brother’s, tell how he had arrived two days ago, as arranged, to find a serious state of affairs. Craig Barker had vanished without reporting Russell Martin’s death to the authorities, and Jan and Margaret had taken off after him despite the beating the Rangers reported Jan had been given. Chris had instructed one of the Rangers to contact the Game Reserve governors, and took off to fly over the Reserve to look for vehicles. The jeep and police truck were discovered empty, and when Chris gave the police the number of the vehicle, they traced it to Alwynsrus. An immediate visit to the station there proved very lucky because the man who had been sent by Van Heerdon to ‘deal’ with Sergeant De Wet was caught very nicely in the same net as the iniquitous police officer.

  As soon as the arms were discovered the police tightened up their security and set a detailed investigation in motion. The outcome
of it was that Chris had been under police surveillance while the search went on for Jan and Craig Barker. It didn’t take long for the police to decide the two men had crossed the border and a constant watch was kept on that area of the Reserve while the police on the other side were alerted. The girl’s part in it was unknown, but the opinion was that she must be an innocent participant who was being used in some way.

  The last thing she heard before drifting off to sleep was Jan listing all the details of Van Heerdon’s contacts for the hoped-for international arms traffic, and the police Captain telling him he was also under surveillance, pending a full enquiry into Schroeder Freight Limited.

  ‘I’m sorry about this, Chris,’ he said in his familiar deep voice. ‘Van Heerdon could have cleared you of any blame.’

  ‘We’ve nothing to worry about,’ came the answer. ‘You may have been a bit wild, at times, but I know you could never get involved in anything like this. You’re too loyal!’

  *

  ‘He’s late!’ grumbled Chris, looking at his watch for the fifth time. ‘You’d think he’d make an effort on Christmas day.’

  ‘He has,’ said Margaret from the window. ‘Listen!’

  The orange Lotus roared to a halt outside the house at Sea Point, and Jan burst in with his usual gusto.

  ‘Hallo, Helen . . . Maggie . . .’ he smiled at the two women then; ‘Chris, I’ve been doing some calculations and I reckon I can save that Dakota, after all. Look, here are the preliminary figures I made.’ He took a slip of paper from his pocket, then stopped short at Chris’s expression. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ said his brother pointedly.

  The eagerness left Jan’s face. ‘Oh lord! After that phone call from Brigadier Boetman I started planning where we would go from here, and completely forgot about anything else.’

  ‘What phone call?’ asked Helen calmly.

  ‘Hasn’t he contacted you yet? He will! They think they have enough evidence to clear us on the gun-running charge. The police over there have smoked-out most of the rebels and linked the organization with the packing firm here in Cape Town, as well as other small fry in this area. According to evidence given in statements by various witnesses, Brigadier Boetman is inclined to believe my story, so it looks as if you are free of any charge, Chris.’

  ‘What about you?’ asked Margaret.

  He turned to her and raised his eyebrows. ‘I am guilty of accepting cargo I haven’t personally checked, breaking out from arrest, locking two policemen in their own cell, and making off with a police vehicle while rendering the other one immobile. Sounds awful, put like that, but he hinted that, in view of the outcome of all these actions, he is prepared to turn a blind eye, providing I promise to keep out of any further schemes which propose making money faster than advisable.’

  ‘I should think so,’ she said. ‘Not only did you expose the gun-running, you enabled them to discover the unsavoury Sergeant De Wet.’

  His face lit in a smile. ‘The case against him will go on for days, I hear. They intend throwing the book at him in a big way, and when he has served his sentence, he’ll be damned lucky to get employment anywhere – that’s if he is not past retiring age by then. They’ll pull him apart in court so he’ll never again be given a position of trust.’

  ‘And the witch-doctor?’ asked Margaret.

  He shook his head. ‘Not a chance! Although it’s obvious he and his lads passed the arms on to Mtubu, and were indirectly concerned with the guerrilla movement, they can’t get witnesses or positive evidence to prove it. He’s a crafty man – they all are or they’d never hold such sway over the people. However, he is going to be closely watched from now on, though I doubt if he will ever be caught at anything they can arrest him for.’

  ‘That awful bird-mask still haunts me,’ she said. ‘I hated him for what he did to you.’

  ‘Yes,’ put in Chris. ‘I was telling Margaret only this morning about the time we left you with a noose around your neck. Do you remember?’

  There was only the barest hesitation before Jan said carefully, ‘Very well. You have no idea how bloody stupid I felt when you turned up that evening.’

  Chris gave a rueful grin. ‘How do you think I felt being thrashed in your presence as if I were a kid of your own age! It took me weeks to recover from that humiliation.’

  ‘It took me slightly longer.’

  ‘Let’s not dwell on things like that,’ said Helen, seeing the look on Margaret’s face. ‘The twins will be dashing in at any moment to see if you really have brought those model aircraft you promised them, Jan.’

  ‘Have I ever broken a promise to them?’ he asked with a hurt expression which fooled her not a bit. ‘You cut me to the quick with your doubts of my truthfulness.’

  She laughed, hardly able to believe the subtle change in him these last few days. ‘You are every inch a Schroeder! You can charm your way out of anything.’

  ‘You can say that again,’ put in Margaret feelingly.

  He turned to her. ‘I have a present for you, too.’

  ‘What is it . . . a one-way ticket to England?’

  He ignored that and took an envelope from his pocket. ‘A letter from Doctor Marais, who is taking over as Warden of Myala. I met him once when I was staying at the Reserve, so I telephoned to check that he wishes to continue our contract to fly supplies in each month. While I was speaking to him I mentioned your problem regarding studying. This is an invitation to Myala so that he can discuss the possibility of your working there.’ A quick grin. ‘He is over fifty and has a wife there with him. I told him we’d fly up in the New Year, but there are a few things I’d like to get straight before we do. If anything goes wrong on this trip I won’t stand any meddling. By trailing after me you landed yourself in a situation no woman should be in. Have you any idea how I felt when I saw that buffalo charge you?’ He shook his head. ‘No. From now on you do as you are told in emergencies. Is that clear?’

  ‘Perfectly,’ she replied, trying to control the feeling of bubbling exaltation which threatened to send her rushing at him. ‘Does that also apply to on-the-spot medical treatment?’

  The brown of his eyes deepened as they took in the smile playing round her mouth, and he remembered her courage and determination.

  ‘Just get in a little more practice with a needle before you try any more of those cattle injections,’ he said roughly, ‘and a little feminine sympathy would do wonders for a patient’s morale.’

  ‘If you propose flying Margaret to Myala again you’ll take a decent aircraft this time,’ said Chris. ‘One which won’t get struck by lightning.’

  The two women waited for an angry outburst which didn’t come.

  ‘All right, all right,’ said Jan equably. ‘I know I’ll never live that down . . . but I’ll save the Dakota yet!’

  ‘Forget it. You’ll need all the money you have to recover from the purchase of that monster parked outside. Besides, the Board of Directors has decided that, if we have to have another aircraft, we’ll have a more modern one – if only to avoid a repetition of this affair. You are to be given a cheque for twenty-five thousand rands, and instructions to get the best you can. I think the rest of the family realizes it is time we expanded slightly, and you are the expert when it comes to the mechanical side.’

  Margaret watched the two men eagerly discussing their future plans, but her eyes lingered on the freckled face she had come to know so well, and saw her future written there. It was impossible to catch this lion by the mane; when he was ready, he would willingly approach anyone who had earned his trust and respect. She had that now . . . and something more. A show of aggression, the instinct to protect his partner, and the desire for female attentions were courtship traits in the male of the species, and Jan had just displayed them all! He might not be ready to admit it, but a little gentle encouragement from her would help . . . and she was flying to Myala with him next week!

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