A Plume of Dust

by Wynne May

  They both eased over and turned to look at the Land-Rover, carrying the Basotho men, as it approached and then groaned past the stationary Land-Rover, which Lyle had pulled right on to the side, with absolutely no room to spare. The groaning vehicle was boiling, the squat bonnet half hidden beneath a cloud of white vapour.

  ‘Well then,’ said Lyle, ‘what’s the problem, Michelle?’

  ‘I have no problem.’ She turned to look at him and gestured and the gesture took in the whole scene. ‘My so-called flippant arrangements were no more flippantly made than those of the two girls - over there.

  But in any case, if there’s one thing I don’t need right now, it’s a whole lot of sarcasm.’ The fact that he was in a sense her boss did not bother her now.

  ‘Are you as nervous as all that?’

  ‘I’m not particularly nervous. It’s a fantastic experience and I’m not oblivious to the fact that it has its dangers. It’s not that -1 happen to resent a few things, that’s all.’

  ‘For instance?’

  The other Land-Rover had stopped further up and a man was pouring water over the steaming bonnet, presumably to cool it down, Michelle thought. She noticed that Lyle’s blue-green eyes were watching him moodily and then they came back to her face. ‘For instance?’ he said again.

  ‘Well - that snake, for instance.’ She took a deep, almost shuddering breath. ‘Then there are the barbed remarks you keep aiming at me and the reckless speed you’re keeping up.’

  At that he laughed outright. ‘Speed? What speed? You want to wait until we’re on the way down before you talk about speed!’

  ‘I meant further back - before we actually started on this tortuous climb. Apart from that, there’s all this - this - playing up, on your part.’

  ‘Playing up? Does that mean what I think it does?’

  ‘Yes. You once mentioned that the storms here enjoy being the whole floor show - something like that, anyway. Well, I hate to see and hear somebody trying to be the whole floor show when it happens to be at someone else’s expense. I feel you’re doing your best to create nervousness on the part of your passengers - or rather on my part.’

  ‘Has it ever struck you that I might just happen to know what I’m doing?’ His tone was angry.

  ‘Oh…’ she sighed impatiently, ‘is it so important?’

  ‘Yes, I think it is.’ His blue-green eyes were angry.

  The wind whined and whistled across the mountains. Shivering a little, she said, ‘By the time we get back, if we get back, I wouldn’t want to live through this trip again.’

  ‘I see,’ he said, and that was all.

  The photographers and their girls were making their way back to the Land-Rover the wind whipping their hair. ‘I was beginning to think there were no challenges left in life,’ one of the girls was saying, breathlessly. ‘Honestly, this is a super, super trip. The only thing I’ve got to moan about is,’ she laughed and slanted her eyes at Lyle, ‘that you’re not going fast enough, man!’ She was stylishly off-beat.

  Michelle had heard the others calling her Marie.

  ‘Before you form an opinion,’ Lyle answered with a meaningful smile, ‘wait until the down trip. We’re climbing now, or have you overlooked the fact?’

  ‘I haven’t overlooked anything,’ Marie grinned back cheekily. ‘I’ll keep you to your word - coming down, don’t worry.’

  ‘You won’t have to.’ Michelle thought she could detect annoyance in his voice, controlled though it was. ‘However, I’d better just put you wise - it’s never been easy to make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Okay?’ His voice was pleasant again. His eyes mocked the situation. ‘All set? Jump in, then.’

  Higher up the Pass, the Land-Rover had cooled off a little and the radiator had been topped with water. In their colourful blankets and mealie-straw hats, looped at the top, the Basotho men were climbing back in. Lyle gave the signal to the driver that he would follow them.

  Immediately Michelle felt her nerves begin to tighten. Would the vehicle in front of them stall and run backwards, crashing into them before anyone knew what was happening? Tense and apprehensive, she wished Lyle would not keep as close to it as he did. Their own Land-Rover seemed to be groaning in agony, a noise which was transmitted directly to Michelle’s shrieking, protesting nerves. Why couldn’t she relax and enjoy herself, she thought bitterly, like the others?

  At last they reached the security base where there was a notice reading,

  NO VEHICLE WHICH IS NOT EQUIPPED WITH FOUR-WHEEL DRIVE MAY PROCEED BEYOND THIS POINT WITHOUT THE PRIOR APPROVAL OF THE ADMINISTRATOR OF NATAL.

  There was a general disembarking and a showing of papers and they were away again, the Land-Rover bearing the straw-hatted Basothos following this time. The Land-Rover bounced, rattled and shook over a causeway of boulders and past a cave which seemed to be jutting out in their path - until you got there and saw that the track swerved abruptly past it.

  Once again Lyle stopped to point out a waterfall, although they did not get out of the Land-Rover.

  There was a new roughness to the mountains now and the air was rare. The girls in the back were quieter as the vehicle moved forward and began to climb, roaring and protesting its way through watery, boulder-filled beds only to wrench itself around hairpin bends. The ground on the one side began to fall away and the speed of the Land-Rover slackened off alarmingly. Michelle was terrified that they were going to slip back and gather speed as the vehicle hurtled backwards, completely out of control.

  Three mountain rhebok bounded across the road in front of them, with rocking-horse action, showing the white undersides of their tails, and were soon lost from sight as they disappeared into the bush.

  The thick woolly coats of the animals blended beautifully with their environment and Lyle stopped the Land-Rover for a moment or two, and the sharp, coughing sound of the rhebok could easily be heard.

  And then once again they were able to see the animals as they fled up the mountain, their fluffy tails held erect.

  Although it was hot in the Land-Rover there was every evidence that it was cold outside and growing colder by the minute as they advanced up the Pass.

  At times, Lyle’s entire body seemed to gather itself together as he basically stood up to reverse backwards and then forwards again to take the hairpin bends, the steering wheel seemingly to spin beneath his fingers as he manipulated this feat.

  There were more things of interest to see - some huts, half buried beneath an avalanche, a water tank washed down by floods. ‘This is known by the Basothos,’ Lyle had almost to shout above the noise, ‘as the place that eats people.’

  The snow in the crevices of the mountains appeared to be thick. Far down in the valley there were the carcases of vehicles that had not been able to make the grade and had gone plunging downwards.

  In the back of the Land-Rover the girls were going wild again as Lyle gave all his attention to getting round a bend which seemed to be hanging against the mountainside.

  ‘Whew! We made it!’ they screamed, laughing.

  ‘That’s Gray’s Corner,’ Lyle told them, ‘known by the local Basothos as Grace Corner, and when asked why, they explain that it’s “only by the Grace of God that you get round it”. I think that about sums it up.’

  Gears screaming now, they were on the last lap. The Land-Rover battled up and up. Far below, down in the valley, the wrecks could still be seen if you dared to look back. The air became even thinner and more bracing. Behind was the vast panorama of the plains of Natal, opening out in a vista of limitless mountains and valleys. At last they levelled out. They were at the top. A notice board loomed up… 9,400 ft. Alt. SANI PASS, and Michelle felt her stomach muscles release their hold on the walls of her stomach. A long sigh escaped her lips. Lyle turned his head and gave her an easy smile.

  ‘Thank goodness!’ she said.

  At the gates a blanketed man with a wooden peg-leg offered to sell them a straw hat.

  After the nece
ssary papers had been presented to the authorities they drove to the mountain chalet where they were welcomed by two exuberant cross St. Bernard dogs who quite obviously knew Lyle.

  The wind was nothing short of freezing and everybody had added yet another jersey. ‘You’ll find the pub open,’ Lyle told them. ‘Do feel free to go along while I attend to one or two things. I’m sure a drink will be more than welcome.’

  Immediately he had given this right-away the foursome went into the chalet, taking their noisy laughter and chatter with them. Uncertain and tense, Michelle remained standing, holding out her fingers to the large dogs.

  ‘Go and order yourself a drink, Michelle. Don’t stay out here in the cold.’

  ‘I’ll go in presently.’ She did not look at him.

  ‘Go in now.’ His voice was curt, and she looked up at him.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m ordering you to, and as I’ve told you, I’ll be with you all in a few moments.’

  Michelle caught her lower lip between her teeth. She felt provoked, for some unknown reason, into telling him not to think he could shuffle her about as he was trying to do to Pete and Laney but, in view of the fact that he was only thinking of her welfare, she thought better of it and, turning, went to join the others in the small pub.

  CHAPTER NINE

  As it whined and licked around the corners of the building the wind could be heard inside the chalet.

  Michelle went in the direction of the voices. Managing a casual smile, she said, ‘All roads lead to the pub, I see. Who would have said it was going to be as cold as this up top?’ She shook back her hair, which felt damp and tangled.

  The foursome turned to look at her and the young men stood up. ‘All this way up and we haven’t yet exchanged names,’ one of them said, smiling.

  ‘In any case,’ said Michelle, ‘conversation in the Land-Rover was virtually impossible - whew, all that shaking and groaning! I don’t know how you people feel, but I feel all shaken up.’

  ‘Where’s our good driver?’

  Michelle shrugged. ‘He was last seen going in the direction of the kitchen … something to do with the food hampers.’ Suddenly she felt reckless. ‘I suppose he had a few more orders to hand out. He said he’d join us in a few minutes.’

  ‘Anyway, I’m Carl - this is Heidi, Pieter and Marie. We two are from Germany - these are our friends, kindly showing us around.’

  ‘Well,’ Michelle’s blue eyes went from face to face, ‘I’m Michelle, and I’m very pleased to have met you. I’m from England. Right now, I’m very glad to be alive and in one piece.’

  ‘It was some trip - but very enjoyable,’ said Carl. ‘What can I get you to drink?’

  ‘What about a rum and Coke?’ Marie cut in. ‘Good for the cold.’

  ‘That sounds like an invitation to a party,’ Michelle laughed lightly.

  ‘Right, a rum and Coke it will be. Thank you.’ She slipped on to a stool in the primitive little bar where a great Basotho man acted as barman.

  ‘We must write our names on the wall,’ Marie was saying.

  ‘Look, every person who visits here does it, apparently.’

  In fact, the walls of the chalet were decorated not only with the names of many visitors, but also with local information and maps. It formed part of the rugged decor.

  Michelle turned her head to look at a gaily coloured blanket which was suspended from a hook on one side of the bottle-laden shelves.

  ‘Oh, I’d love that,’ she said. ‘Is it for sale?’ she asked the barman.

  ‘It is for sale, yes. But there are others in that little room at the end there. Perhaps one of them - different colour?’

  ‘May I go through?’ she asked.

  ‘Certainly.’

  She left her drink to go and look at the other blankets and items made from straw and sheepskin. Somehow she knew that the burnt orange, dark brown, tan, white-and-black blanket in the pub would also serve to remind her of her trip up the Pass, so when she came out of the small cement-floored shop, she said, ‘I’d like to buy that one. Am I being very difficult? Will it be a lot of trouble getting it down?’

  ‘No trouble at all,’ the barman replied, then there was a lot of laughter as he took it down and began to demonstrate how it should be folded, Basotho style. ‘Basotho ride horses, hey?’ He looked seriously at them.

  ‘Yes, that’s so,’ Pieter replied.

  Some of the tension went out of Michelle’s slim shoulders as she listened and sipped her rum and Coke.

  ‘Well, this is how Basotho folds blanket for saddle.’ They watched him as he folded the blanket and then tried to master the art themselves.

  Michelle paid for the blanket and sighed loudly. ‘After, a very bad start, this has just made my day,’ she said.

  Behind her, somebody coughed, then Lyle Cunningham slipped on to the stool next to her. ‘Yes,’ he said, and his faint smile was unamused,

  ‘so I notice.’

  ‘Tell me, man, where did you learn to drive?’ Marie asked. ‘You were fantastic!’

  Laughing, Lyle said, ‘I’m glad you thought so. Thank you.’

  ‘But if you do this sort of thing very often surely it must be bad for you - bad for the health?’ Carl was saying, twirling his glass round and round on the counter.

  ‘Well, I recognize the insidious damage driving a Land-Rover up this Pass, day in and day out, could do to a man’s health,’ Lyle answered,

  ‘but as a matter of fact, we don’t do it every day - or rather, I don’t.’

  Marie was listening to him with hushed fascination. Then she said,

  ‘You have more than one driver, then, in your business?’

  ‘Yes. I help out, when necessary, and today was - necessary.’ His voice held a hint of amusement. He had the manner of the confident -

  the arrogant, Michelle thought resentfully. Confident that he would get his own way in everything. Confident that he could buy Pete and Laney out.

  ‘Tell me, are there any other concerns, running these Land-Rovers up and down the Pass?’ Piet wanted to know. ‘You know, other Land-Rovers quite apart from your own?’

  ‘There are, yes. There are more Land-Rovers coming into operation soon, I believe. Another concern in the making - but ask Michelle.

  She knows more about it than I do. I’ve heard about it, but haven’t found out whether it’s true - no way of knowing, actually. Although I should have been informed, being indirectly involved, I haven’t been notified. However, I don’t intend to get uptight about it.’

  All eyes were on Michelle, the girls leaning over on their stools so that they could see her, pushing their curtains of windblown hair back from their attractive faces, the men pretending by their smiles that they had not noticed the sudden chill in the atmosphere.

  Michelle managed a half-hearted smile. ‘I’m from England, don’t forget. I’m not up to your local gossip - which incidentally appears to be the chief occupation in these parts.’ She made sure there was just enough sarcasm in her voice to make Lyle lift his dark brows.

  ‘However,’ she went on, ‘I’m aware that a certain party is going into operation soon.’

  Lyle compelled her to look at him. ‘Into operation - or opposition?’

  His eyes held hers.

  ‘That I have no idea, but you could always make it your business to find out,’ she told him before giving him the benefit of her shoulder as she turned away from him.

  The chalet seemed to ring with the sound of the wind. Beyond the windows of the little bar it looked bleak, barren and rocky outside.

  Inside, it was snug. It was difficult to believe that when they went back down the winding Pass they would probably find themselves taking off their jerseys.

  Michelle’s pulse quickened as, by accident, her hand brushed against Lyle’s and she could sense the tension in him.

  ‘How long before lunch?’ Carl asked suddenly, looking at Lyle. ‘I’ll tell you why - is there time for some walki
ng? Just a little way, to see the view. Not far.’

  Lyle seemed to be considering the question, then he said, ‘Yes, but don’t get lost. Don’t let the girls fall over.’ His eyes went to Marie and Heidi, who giggled.

  ‘We might push them over,’ Pieter joked. ‘They make far too much noise, what do you say?’

  ‘You are coming?’ Carl looked at Michelle.

  Not wanting to be in the way, she said, ‘I’ll stay here. I’d like to look around and have another peep at those sheepskin slippers back there in the shop.’

  Except for the wind, it was very quiet when they had gone. Michelle sipped her rum and Coke, enjoying the spice of it and listening idly to the conversation between the Basotho barman and Lyle. A delicious warmth was creeping over her and she felt almost completely relaxed, so it was easy for her to fall into the trap of overlooking the fact that Lyle Cunningham was busy trying to make certain negotiations to buy her brother’s farm. If it were not for the Cunninghams Pete might well, given time, make good.

  With these thoughts in mind she slipped from her stool and, drink in hand, began an inspection of the small pub and the adjacent shop where there were also a number of Basotho straw hats and quaint little donkeys made from straw.

  When she came back into the pub she said, ‘May I look round the chalet?’

  Lyle stood up and pushed back his glass. ‘Of course.’

  She went into the passage, glancing into the kitchen as she passed it.

  Black girls were busy opening tins of food and preparing to heat it and cutting bread and cheese. There was a rattling of crockery and cutlery.

  At the end of the corridor there was a dining-room which she imagined could seat about twelve people or more.

  ‘There are five bedrooms, each with bunk type beds, mattresses, bed linen and blankets,’ Lyle said behind her. Michelle blinked but did not turn. ‘Twenty-six people can be accommodated at one time, in case you’re wondering. Believe it or not, rooms have central heating.

  Meals are catered for and a cook is on hand for those who bring their own food.’

  ‘Like today?’ she asked, still not turning.