Then, so quickly that she didn’t have a chance to react, his nimble fingers snatched the necklace from her hand, and he whirled, running toward the forest. In the blink of an eye he was gone.
Dana stood, mouth open, her empty hand outstretched. Alex was beside her in two long strides. “Great work,” he said bitterly. “That piece of ivory was our passport to good relations with the Mgembe. Now it’s gone.”
Dana, still stunned by what had happened, snapped at him. “He’ll take it to his people, and they’ll recognize it, just as we’d hoped. It’s just happening a little differently from the way we’d planned.”
“Very differently, Dana. He’s just one man. He could keep running and never show it to anyone else. This might have been our only chance.”
She turned angrily on him. “What were you planning to do before you knew about the carving, Alex? You didn’t even see it until I was out of jail.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, no longer angry. “I overreacted when he ran into the jungle. But the talisman was our ace in the hole.”
“And I acted too soon,” she admitted.
“Maybe.” He softened his voice. “But who really knows? It’s impossible to second-guess the Pygmies. Sorry to take it out on you.”
“You did, didn’t you?” Before he could respond, she added, “And I’m also sorry that I blasted back.”
“We’re both on edge,” he said as he took her place at the fire, stirred the stew and spooned it into two cups.
“It’s so frustrating, not to know where they are and if we’ll ever see them again. And if we don’t, we may never get out of here to that warm bath and cool bed in the Nairobi hotel.”
“We’ll get there. I promised you, and I always keep my word,” he said smoothly.
Dana sank down on the ground. “Liar.”
He ignored the comment and handed her the cup of stew. “Here, eat this.” They both began to spoon the stew into their mouths hungrily. “First we eat,” he said between mouthfuls, “and then we wait. I don’t know what else to do.”
“The hunting party is probably miles from here,” she said glumly.
“Or very close, watching us.” He looked at her across the fire. “You know there’s a myth that Pygmies can make themselves invisible.”
“Which can probably be explained by the way they blend into the forest.”
“That’s the teacher in you talking.”
Dana laughed agreeably. “The teacher believes the myth.” She stared at the dense foliage above the riverbank. Nothing moved. The silence was eerie. “They’re supposedly the oldest inhabitants in Africa. I wonder if that’s true.”
Alex shrugged. “It’s possible. What we do know is that they have the skill to survive in the depths of the rain forest, which no other humans can do. They could have been here for longer than anyone, and we know that they’re great trackers. That’s why we need them. Or needed them,” he amended.
Dana grimaced at the implied reproach. “I wish I’d never shown the talisman to him.”
“It’s okay,” Alex offered.
“No, not just because of our plans. The medallion belonged to my father, and it had special meaning for me. Now I’ll probably never see it again.” She finished her dinner and got to her feet.
How was it possible, Dana wondered, to ache in so many places at the same time. Her hands still throbbed, her shoulders were sore, the muscles in her legs were stiff and her back hurt like hell. Doggedly, she tried to ignore all that and began sorting through her father’s notes.
When Alex finished cleaning up after dinner he walked over, stood beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. “You can do that later,” he said. “I know you’re beat.”
“Later I’ll be fast asleep. It’s now or never. I’m going to look over these notes and remember everything I read. Then I’ll keep them with me from now on. I’ll even sleep with them. I won’t get caught unawares again.” Dana peered once more into the endless green. “Maybe we’ll get lucky. Maybe they’ll come back.”
She didn’t want to contemplate the alternative. No Pygmies meant no guides out of the Congo, which meant the two of them trying to follow vague and probably inaccurate maps through forests, across rivers, into swamps.
“It could happen,” Alex said. “We’ve been lucky so far.”
She bit back disagreement. Was it luck to be attacked by hippos, almost captured by police, robbed by the Pygmies she’d hoped would help them? She would like to have blamed Alex for everything that had happened to her, but she couldn’t; she’d made her own choices along the way. Soon, she would have to make another. If they couldn’t find the Pygmies, should she keep on going—or turn back and face an irate and punitive Kantana?
Which was the most frightening, she wondered, the dangers that she had left behind in Porte Ivoire or the unknown dangers that lay ahead? Alex himself was very much a part of the uncertainty. She looked at him. His shirt and trousers were stained, his hair matted, his face unshaven. He was hardly the image of the virile, sophisticated man she’d first seen in Porte Ivoire. Yet he was masculine in a different kind of way. The scent of after-shave had given way to the smell of sweat; the cool demeanor was replaced by a rugged sensuality. But one thing remained the same. Of all the unknowns that awaited her, Alex was the most dangerous of all.
* * *
THERE WAS SOMETHING about waking up in a sleeping bag that was becoming exhausting for Dana, who so far had awakened more tired than when she fell asleep. Last night had been even worse because of the dreams. Or nightmares. They’d been nonstop, surreal images, all in pursuit of Dana. Louis, pursuing her from the netherworld. Jean Luc, very much alive. Her father, who kept calling out to her. Finally, Alex, running with her, and then in pursuit of her.
She sat up, ready to tell him about the dream, and only then noticed that both he and his sleeping bag were gone. Dana hadn’t heard him come to bed in the night or leave in the morning, and for a moment she wondered if he’d taken off and left her.
She curled up and closed her eyes, trying not to panic. Since she’d lost the ivory talisman to the Pygmy, he could have decided that she was no longer a worthy partner and left her stranded. It was possible, she decided, rubbing her eyes. Nothing Alex did would surprise her.
Deciding to face reality and find out whether he was still in camp or not, she struggled to a sitting position and looked out through the flap.
There he was, heaping twigs onto the embers of the fire, which had glowed throughout the night. Dana heaved a sigh, picked up her notebook and recorder, which she’d kept by her side all night, and left the tent.
He looked up from the fire as she approached, excitement concealing the fatigue on his face. “They’re here.”
Dana stopped in her tracks and looked around the campsite. “Where?”
“I’ve seen three or four of them in the bush, but they haven’t come into camp. I think they’re waiting for you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, Dana. I just have the feeling. They’re here, but they’re not showing themselves to me.” He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her.
Dana took a long sip, hoping to clear her head, and narrowed her eyes against the already blazing sunlight. “I don’t see anything—”
She broke off in midsentence. They were coming toward her, six small men materializing as if by magic from the shadows of deep green foliage.
Instantly awake, she switched on the tape recorder and scanned her father’s notes. She’d studied them last night, committing to memory the words that possibly could be useful, relieved that they were transcribed phonetically for easy repetition. Hoping the Mgembe could understand, Dana greeted them in their own language.
They immediately began talking among themselves. Whether they understood her or were just pleased that she had spoken, Dana couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that she was thrilled to be standing here, a linguist in the classroom, finally able to put her knowledge to work�
�among people whose language was ancient, unchanged over centuries. She hoped she was up to the challenge.
One of the Pygmies, possibly the leader of the hunting party, stepped away from the group and spoke to her. Then he held out her necklace, offering it to her almost reverently.
Dana accepted it and thanked him in his own language. He didn’t seem to understand so she held the necklace up and said, “Father. The gift of my father.”
The Pygmies looked blankly at each other.
“What are you telling them?” Alex asked, keeping his own voice in a low whisper.
“I thanked them and told them the carving was a gift from my father—using words I learned last night. Problem is, their language is tonal, kind of like Chinese. The way each syllable is emphasized is as important as the pronunciation.”
“So maybe you’re asking him if he wants a martini?”
Dana frowned at Alex, and then tried her sentence again. And again. Finally, when the Pygmy men broke into wide grins, she realized she had made herself understood. But instead of going on she found herself searching for words, entranced by the little men. Their countenances were beatific, smiles broad, teeth shining white and black eyes dancing.
“Say something else,” Alex insisted. “You’ve just hit pay dirt.”
Dana tried her usual ploy when she came face to face with people of a different language. She pointed to herself and said her name again and again. The consonant and vowel order, the simplicity of her name, should make it easy for them to repeat. Finally, she was rewarded by a series of Danas rippling through the air.
By reversing the process, she learned that the leader’s name was Moke. He had a bad scar along his leg, from a predator of some kind, she imagined. If only she had the skills to talk, really communicate. She wanted to learn all their names, ages, families—everything about them. She berated herself for not studying the language thoroughly before coming to the Congo. Of course, it had been only a fantasy, her hope to meet members of the Mgembe tribe, a dream of her father’s to fulfill.
Alex stepped beside Dana. “Show them a map. See if they can get us across the border into Zaire.”
Dana shot him a warning look. “I have to do this at my own pace, Alex. I can’t start firing questions at them about the map. Even if I knew how to ask.”
“Do your best,” he muttered. “I doubt if Jean Luc is wasting any time getting on our trail. And he might not be the only one.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Just show them the map, Dana.”
She pulled out the map and showed it to Moke. He gestured to the others, who studied it intently, talking rapidly among themselves.”
“What are they saying?” Alex asked.
“I have no idea,” Dana replied. “But I’m recording it. Maybe I’ll be able to sort it out sometime.”
“Forget sometime. Or scientific research. You’re not writing a term paper.” Alex took the map from her and traced a trail on it with his finger. “We want to cross this river and get into Zaire. Near this mission. I think there’s a swamp.”
The Pygmies looked at one another, making a puzzled mournful sound. “Ayiii?”
Dana took the map from him. “This is getting us nowhere. They don’t understand. They’ve never seen a map, and this certainly doesn’t look like the rain forest. You’d do better to draw it in the dirt.”
“All right,” he said to her surprise, dropping to his knees. He drew an outline of the boat and then the Lomami, a curving line on the ground. When he pointed, the Pygmies made low humming noises. He drew a tree as Dana repeated “tree” in their language with several intonations. They seemed to understand, but whether the map meant anything to them was impossible to tell. He drew another river. Then what Dana guessed was a swamp, except even she couldn’t be sure of that, and a heap of fallen stones. She repeated that word for them. They were fascinated if not enlightened.
“Ask them if they’ll take us,” he said.
She flipped through her father’s notes and with words and hand gestures, asked, “We go with you?” She pointed to herself and Alex, to the men and then to the dirt map.
There was talk among the Pygmies and what seemed like a consensus that Alex and Dana took for mutual agreement. The Mgembe looked around the camp as if sizing up the division of labor. One kicked sand onto the fire; another picked up Alex’s backpack. Alex quickly took down the tent and folded it into its case, which was immediately commandeered by another Pygmy. The departure was quick and organized.
“Pygmies are nomads,” Dana commented as she stuffed her notes and tape recorder into her bag. “I guess they’re wizards at the get-out-of-town-fast routine.”
“Suits me,” Alex said. “If we have to leave some things, it doesn’t matter. I’m happy to be moving toward the border.”
“Alex.” Dana touched his arm. “I think there’s something you should know.”
He looked at her, one wary eyebrow cocked. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“From what I can figure out, they’re taking us somewhere, but I don’t have a clue where. And I have no idea whether or not they understood your map.”
Alex rubbed his chin, now covered with a scruffy beard. “As long as it’s not back toward Porte Ivoire, I’m game. What about you?”
Dana slipped on her backpack and stood up. “I’m with you, partner.”
She wasn’t surprised when he gave her bottom another pat. That was getting to be a habit, and one she didn’t like. “That’s really sexist, Alex. Suppose I did it to you?”
“I’d love it,” he told her with a laugh.
She gave him a dirty look. “Well, don’t hold your breath. Meanwhile, keep your hands to yourself, especially around the Mgembe. We have no idea what habits they might find offensive.”
“And we know full well what ones you do,” he said.
“Damn right.”
* * *
AS THEY TRUDGED ALONG, Alex behaved solicitously, walking close beside her even when she began to drop back.
“How’re you doing?” he asked.
“I can hardly breathe,” Dana gasped. “The Mgembe are barefoot and yet they run through the forest like—”
“Antelope?” he suggested.
“Faster. But it’s not just the pace that’s getting to me. The air is so humid.” She lifted her blouse away from her sticky skin and fanned herself, creating the only breeze in the forest.
“Not like hiking in Colorado.” He stopped to wait for her. “‘Course the altitude there is a detriment. It must be difficult to keep a good pace in such thin air.”
“I’ll take altitude to humidity any day.”
Ahead, slowing to wait for the two stragglers, the Pygmies began to sing and clap their hands.
“It’s like a whole other world. No, another planet,” she corrected. “I just can’t believe I’m finally here among these people. I’ve actually talked to them, Alex, and now they’re taking us—well, I’m not sure where. But we’re following.”
“Or you might say we’re being chased.”
Dana didn’t want to think about that. “Just look up, Alex. These trees are incredible.”
He followed her gaze upward. “The rain forest is always a surprise. Very different from the dense growth closer to the river.”
Slivers of sunlight filtered through the branches of trees that soared hundreds of feet above them. The air trapped below the green canopy was heavy with moisture. She could smell the rich, fecund earth. Giant vines twisted and twined like huge green snakes around tree trunks, tendrils straining toward the sun. The carpet of the forest wasn’t an impenetrable jungle of undergrowth as Dana had imagined. Instead, it was covered by leaves, and the vegetation was sparse. Moss, mushrooms and various kinds of algae hid among the curving roots.
“Look, Alex, there’re palms and fig trees!” she exclaimed. “Not as monstrous as the mahoganies but big enough.”
Alex nodded mutely but couldn’t help smiling at her
enthusiasm.
“And ferns! It’s like a huge terrarium down here, but then when you look up, it’s like being in a cathedral. There’s something almost spiritual about it.” She gazed at the great tent of leaves high overhead where occasional rays of sunlight sparkled like diamonds on the damp leaves.
“You like the Mgembe. You like the forest. And of course, you’re crazy about your guide.”
“Or captor, whichever fits,” she retorted.
“But you admit being crazy about him?”
Dana stumbled over a huge root protruding from the mossy earth.
Alex reached out and caught her. “Falling for him?”
She pulled away. “Yes, I like the Pygmies and the rain forest, and if I was a tourist, I’m sure I’d find you an excellent guide. As it is, I’m trying to adapt. And to keep up.” She quickened her pace, following the singing and clapping Mgembe.
“What’s all that noise about?” Alex asked.
“It sounds to me like they’re just having a great time entertaining one another, but I read that if they’re not hunting, the Pygmies clap and sing to keep the wild animals away. I hope they do a damned good job,” she added fervently.
“I’ll go along with that, especially since I heard elephants trumpeting earlier.”
“Alex—”
“In the distance,” he assured her.
“They’re probably as dangerous as hippos. They stampede, don’t they? And trample people!”
“Don’t worry. The Pygmies are great hunters.”
“Hurry,” she said, forging ahead. “Let’s keep up with them, just to be safe.”
Alex laughed as he followed after her, admittedly panting a little himself in the steamy heat.
As for Dana, he had to admit that she was doing great, probably because she was in shape. He’d never been much of an advocate of clean living, at least not the kind that included exercise and a sensible diet, but her good life-style, hiking and kayaking in Colorado, was paying off.
Her ability to take care of herself appealed to him. So did her intelligence. The women in his life had always been smart, and she was definitely one of the brightest. Otherwise, he couldn’t imagine being involved....
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