The House Called Green Bays

by Jan Andersen

  “Oh, Alex!” Instinctively she reached for his hand.

  “Were you scared?” he said softly.

  “Scared stiff. I was all right, although it made me feel very queer to know I could have touched it, it was so close—but you and Abraham—why, it was only a few yards away from you. Anything could have happened!”

  He squeezed her hand. “Bless you for warning us so sensibly. Had we disturbed it suddenly, then things could have got tricky, but lions are strange animals, predictable unless they’re wounded, hungry or guarding their young. They’re naturally lazy and just want to be left in peace. As long as we stayed still and showed no fear, we were reasonably safe. The danger is often in thinking there is only one lion where there’s probably a pride in the vicinity ... just like there is here. Look, Tracy.”

  As she followed the direction of his pointing finger she saw about six more lions join the original one, who rose, stretched and led the way down the road.

  “Shut your window,” Alex commanded, “and we’ll try to get closer.”

  He eased the truck into gear and drove very slowly in the wake of the lions. As he came up beside them they parted, making a passage for the truck, but not moving off the road. Tracy was able to watch them, without fear this time, as two of the young playfully pawed each other, tumbling on their backs like a couple of puppies.

  She was filled with delight and could have stayed there for hours, just watching, but she knew Alex was impatient to get on, and finish his work for the day. Her last sight of the lions as she looked back was the whole pride, stretched out across the road, dozing in the sun.

  She suddenly remembered the reason why they had stopped in the first place. “What were those two men doing?” she asked.

  “Poachers.” Alex’s answer was succinct. “Still one of the biggest menaces we have to deal with.”

  She had not thought of this in the peace and order of the Park, more like the old films she saw as a child. “Are they white men?”

  “Very few are these days. It’s simply not worth their while. They only do it for some small personal gain. No, they’re mostly African, some from the same tribes as our own rangers, but many more from over the borders. They set the most vicious snares. I had a case only a short while ago when the native rangers reported they had seen three strange Bantu not far from the river. We found a hippo caught by a one-inch cable that had cut right through his hide. It was dying of thirst and starvation, only a few yards from the river. We caught the culprits and found the animal had been there for eleven or twelve days. We’re constantly on the watch for this kind of thing.”

  Tracy settled happily back to listen to Alex’s stories of the Park, of more poachers, of the dangers of veld fires and amusing incidents of the animals themselves. He was wholly absorbed in his work and as soon as he realised how content she was to listen, there was no stopping Mm. Most of all she enjoyed the many stories about lion.

  They reached one of the smallest camps in the Park just after sundown, more primitive than the others, but nevertheless comfortable enough. She was allotted a small rondavel again, but this time the bathroom lay across a strip of grass. As soon as they arrived Abraham set to building up the great open fire on which he was to cook their meal. Alex produced a bottle of red wine. “Strictly against the rules,” he told her, “but since the camp is closed I think we can waive them for once.”

  Abraham cooked the huge steaks to perfection and they ate them between slabs of bread. It was a perfect meal, and as Tracy looked up at the black velvety night, she felt replete and happy and a little envious of Alex for the life he led.

  As the heat of the fire died away and Abraham disappeared to his quarters they sat on finishing the last of the wine, then the coffee which Alex insisted on brewing himself.

  “Well,” he smiled, “are you glad you came?”

  “It’s been perfect,” she said simply. “I don’t want it to end.”

  He moved a little closer. “It needn’t, you know. You could always get a job up here for the season.”

  “And Green Bays?”

  “Well, you’ve got a manager, he should be able to look after it. Or, alternatively, sell it. On the proceeds you could do exactly what you want and be rid of all the worries.”

  “You’re as bad as your father,” she said lazily, not believing he meant it.

  But he took her seriously, shaking his head. “My father and I haven’t seen eye to eye for years. We’ve at last learned to accept the differences. He’s a fruit farmer and I’m a game ranger—and that’s the way it will always be. And you, Tracy, Do you always intend to be a fruit farmer?”

  “You could hardly call me a fruit farmer yet,” she chuckled at the thought. “I know less than the youngest labourer.”

  “You’re a woman, Tracy, that’s all I care about, and a very beautiful one. I can’t bear the thought of you being buried under a few thousand oranges—like Julia.” He took hold of her shoulders and drew her towards him. “You know what I’m trying to say, don’t you, Tracy?”

  “I think so,” her voice was shaky.

  “I never thought I could be bowled over so quickly by a girl but you’ve hit me like ... like a sledgehammer.” A spark flared from the fire and in the sudden light she saw his eyes, intensely blue, close to hers. To kiss then seemed the most natural thing in the world.

  So much seemed to have happened that day that Tracy thought she would never sleep, but nature proved kinder than she expected. One minute she was turning off the paraffin lamp above her bed, the next Alex was knocking on her door telling her it was six o’clock and coffee was just on the boil.

  There was a certain reserve in their manner that morning. Both knew they had taken a step that could lead to an inevitable conclusion. Tracy had never been in love before. Neither, it seemed, had Alex, so both were wary of their own emotions.

  But as the day progressed, Tracy was so excited by what she saw that she forgot everything but her intense pleasure at the trip—and being with Alex. The day was not as eventful as the previous one, but she chalked up three new animals to add to her already considerable store. A cheetah, gliding through the scrub by the road, an ugly warthog racing along with its family behind it and hippopotamus bathing at a half-empty water hole. At one stop they had to close the windows quickly when a crowd of baboons clambered all over the truck, racing each other across the roof and down again.

  Alex had hoped to be back at headquarters by nightfall, but he had so much repair work to do that by six o’clock they had covered little more than half the distance. They stopped for a cool drink and a biscuit while he considered the best thing to do. Finally he said, “I think I’d better ring headquarters, they may have some ideas on the subject. They don’t like us driving around in the dark unless it’s for a very good reason—particularly if we’ve got passengers with us.”

  He dug the transmitter out of the back of the truck, put the earphones on and waited for it to warm up.

  When he finally got through he started to explain where he was and what had happened when he was obviously interrupted. He listened carefully with set face, saying at the end, “Yes, yes, I understand, and I’ve got Abraham with me. I’ll head there now. With luck I’ll make it in an hour or so.”

  He stowed the transmitter away and barked orders at Abraham, telling him to get the stuff put away and get a move on.

  “What’s happened?” she asked.

  “Tell you when we’re under way. We’re heading for the Vorsters’, just as fast as we can. I’ll be breaking the Park’s speed limit, so if you see anything on the road, shout quickly. I’ll probably have seen it too, but it’s best to make double certain.”

  A minute later the truck was on its way, rattling at every bump in the road. It was not used to being driven at more than twenty-five miles an hour.

  “It’s young Ian Vorster,” Alex said at last. “Apparently Bambi decided he wanted to get back to the bush, so he escaped. Ian has gone looking for the an
imal and can’t be found. That’s all the details I’ve got.”

  “Oh, «o!” Tracy thought of the happy, sturdy little boy who had been playing with his pet only yesterday. “Surely he can’t have got too far?”

  “They hope not. Sally thought he was asleep in his room after getting upset when Bambi vanished. It was over an hour before she discovered he was missing. The trouble was I imagine that there was only Sally to look for him. Now they’re getting more on the job. They reckon he must be within a two or three-mile radius of the house.” He looked across at the sinking sun. “Pray God they find him before dark.”

  Tracy shivered. She knew only too well that an animal sleepy and indolent by day is a very different creature at night. That is when the carnivorous of the veld go hunting for food...

  Neither of them spoke again, except when Tracy saw a group of buck on the road and shouted a warning. But Alex’s sharp eyes had already seen them and the truck was slowing as she spoke.

  It seemed that darkness, always swift in that part of the world, was even swifter than usual. One minute the road was cast in the golden glow of the sun, the next night had fallen. Alex swung in to the front of the Vorsters’ bungalow with a screech of brakes, and hardly waiting for the truck to shudder to a halt, he was out and racing up to the door. Tracy followed more slowly. In the silence that surrounded the place she could sense that Ian had not been found.

  Minutes later Alex came running out. “You’d better get in with Sally,” he said curtly. “It might be a long job finding him now.”

  “No,” she answered. “Three pairs of eyes are better than two. Besides, I can drive, and I might be useful.” He had no time to argue, but climbed back in the truck, heading along the road the way they had come.

  “The trouble is not enough transport has arrived yet and we haven’t got enough flashlights. There are more than a dozen out looking for him so far, and within the next hour there should be many more, but every minute counts at this time in the evening.”

  After about three miles he turned off the main road on to a track that was rough, but at least dry. Again and again they flashed their lights, stopping to call Ian’s name. In the distance a lion roared twice and Tracy swallowed, but said nothing.

  As the lights of the truck pierced the darkness they threw up strange shadows and the sharp thorn trees squealed against the paintwork. The bush seemed alive with real and imagined movement. Again and again a small animal would dart away in terror and once a huge lean shape leapt away from the light. “Cheetah,” said Alex abruptly, and swore as the truck scraped yet another boulder.

  He pulled up. “Right, this is as far as we can take the truck. The river is just to the east of us. We’ll head in that general direction.” He reached into the back for his gun. “Don’t move an inch from here until one of us calls or comes back.”

  “You’re not going on foot?”

  “I imagine the danger to us is less than to a five-year-old.” His unexpected sarcasm silenced her. As he got out he added, “Close the windows except for a couple of inches at the top. And if you hear or see anything sound the horn twice. Oh, yes, and switch the headlights on for a few seconds about every five minutes.”

  She nodded, and he and Abraham vanished in the darkness with only the flashlight to tell which way they had gone. For a few minutes she heard them calling Ian’s name, then the sounds of the bush superseded the human ones.

  She tried peering out of the windows, but it was a dark night and she could distinguish only vague shapes. She was deeply aware of fear, but still her fear for the child was so great that the cramped cabin of the truck seemed like a haven. Only an elephant could really harm her, and the likelihood of one stumbling across her in the dark seemed too unlikely to contemplate. An elephant did not go looking for prey like a lion ... or even a dog or hyena.

  She switched on the lights for a moment and there were scurrying movements round her.

  In the end she was not sure how long she sat there listening, staring at nothing, waiting, but suddenly Abraham plunged from the long grass to the side of the truck.

  “Missie, missie, water, bandages!” he gabbled, and those were the only words she could understand. With a sick feeling of fear she grabbed the half empty water bottle, a box of tissues and a white cotton petticoat and the first aid box she had seen at the back of the truck, and stumbled after Abraham, pushing through the long grass and thorn trees that caught at her arms.

  It was not far, but she was bruised and torn by the time they came to a clearing where a horrifying sight met her eyes.

  By a small fire Alex knelt. To one side of him was little Ian, crying, gently and hopelessly, and for a few moments she could not understand why Alex was ignoring him. Then, as she came near, she saw Pieter Vorster huddled, his face glazed with pain from the monstrous-looking cable round his leg.

  As she approached Alex took the things she held out to him and said in a quick low voice, “Don’t ask questions just now, do as I say as quickly as you can. Take Ian back to the truck. Abraham will come with you, and I want you to find the box of tools in the back for him. He knows where they are. Then drive immediately back to the Vorsters’. I hope to heaven you can find your way. If you go carefully and follow the track we came along you must eventually come on to the road. Turn right and keep going. Can you do that?”

  She nodded.

  “Good girl! Now, when you get to the Vorsters’, send what help you can, but the most important is something to cut the cable. I shall keep going at it, but my tools are limited. Tell them it’s the kind of cable used in snares ... they’ll understand. Now, go quickly, but be careful.”

  Without another word she scooped up the sobbing child and with Abraham leading the way headed back to the truck. This time she went more slowly, taking care that the sharp thorns did not touch Ian.

  She knew it was not going to be easy to find her way back, but she did not realise quite how difficult it would be first to get the strange engine going, then to turn the truck round to face the other way. And all the time Ian sobbed for his father.

  To console him was impossible, so she tried other tactics, telling him to look out for stones and any animals in the road. Gradually, although he did not stop altogether, his sobbing died down.

  Somehow she got back to the Vorsters”, picked Ian up and ran into the house. Fortunately one of the other rangers was there. She handed Ian to his mother and gasped out her story. He listened, called one of the other lads and said there would be some heavy cutters amongst Pieter’s tools.

  While he had gone to search for them Sally came back and really saw her for the first time. “Oh, Tracy, you’ve been scratched all over. You’re in a terrible state ... go straight to the bathroom, then I can put some antiseptic on and you can tell me what happened.” But Tracy shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sally, but I’ll have to go back to show the others the way. It’s...” she hesitated, then decided the truth was the only thing. “Pieter has been caught in a trap and they’re finding wire-cutters to release him. I think it would be a good idea if you could reach a doctor while we’re gone.”

  Sally slapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Pieter ... oh, God, no!” Then she pulled herself together as though she were used to dealing with emergencies and said in a steady voice, “There’s a doctor standing by for Ian, I can reach him on the transmitter.”

  The journey back with the other rangers and several Africans, in two trucks, was no easier, but fortunately Tracy had had the foresight to hang her spare blouse on the thorn tree that marked the narrow turning off the road. Within another twenty minutes they had reached Alex and Pieter, who was by now unconscious.

  “It’s better that way,” Alex said. “It’s going to hurt to get the final lot off his leg.”

  She saw that he had cleaned the leg as well as he could, but the cable had probably cut almost through to the bone.

  Pieter was finally released and gently the Africans lifted him on to a makeshift stretcher and carri
ed him back to the larger truck. Alex and Tracy were the last to leave the scene, and as they reached the edge of the clearing there was a sudden movement behind them and a lion stepped into the light of the flickering fire.

  “My God,” said Alex, “he must have been there all the time, watching us. He can smell blood ... go on, keep walking, as quietly as you can, I’ve got him covered. For the moment he’s too interested in what he’s found there.”

  With her heart in her mouth this time Tracy obeyed him, while he followed her—backwards, never taking his eyes off the glowing embers of the fire. Tracy was beginning to think she had had enough scares to last a lifetime.

  They got back to the bungalow to find the doctor there before them and soon Pieter was in his room having his wound dressed. The doctor came down shaking his head. “He’ll be all right tonight but I’ll have the ambulance out first thing in the morning to get him to hospital.”

  Sally looked at him, white and scared. “He ... won’t lose his leg will he?”

  “No, I doubt it, he was found too soon after he was hurt, but he’ll be laid up for a few weeks. Anyway, he needs some specialised attention.” His eyes fell suddenly on Tracy. “And there’s someone else who needs some attention... Get me some clean rags and a bowl of hot water ... and get her some brandy. I reckon those cuts are just beginning to hurt, aren’t they?” Tracy nodded, too exhausted to speak.

  When the cuts were dressed she was told to get into a bed that Sally had prepared for her. She then had a hot drink which must have contained a stiff dose. For she had hardly finished it when she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER SEVEN