The Tin Heart Gold Mine

by Ruth Hartley

Brian had a quiet chat with the manager of the main hotel in town and arranged some temporary work for Lara over Christmas but she found city life dull and lonely after the aggravation of art school and the delights of the bush camp. Lara persuaded Brian to turn one end of his garage workshop into a studio for her and she became absorbed into reworking her sketches from the valley into paintings. An irritated Jane reminded Lara that she had offered to do the supermarket shopping and help with the catering for the Christmas parties at Brian’s office. Lara sighed, started to pack up her sketch book, decided to make a small alteration, then forgot where she was, and ended up being too late for the shops.

  “Honestly Lara – how did Maria put up with you? Did you daydream all the time there too? You’ve forgotten to go to the butcher again.” Jane stopped scolding as her eye was caught by Lara’s work.

  It was a series of ink and watercolour drawings of young animals playing, turning, scratching, leaping, and feeding. Each captured a brief moment of action particular to that creature. The drawings concentrated on the instant of life rather than being a detailed representation.

  “Those are lovely, Lara!” Jane said, her voice alight with surprise and pleasure. “Why don’t you have some of them printed – they would make lovely Christmas cards and you can donate the sales to the Wildlife Charity”

  Lara shrugged, but after thinking about it she agreed. The cards could also be sold at the safari camp to visitors during the season. She wouldn’t make any money after the printing costs but it would be a validation of sorts for her art.

  “I’ll phone up that woman who runs the art gallery in the city centre – whatever her name is – something Greek that I can’t say – Helen Yannu, I think – maybe Ioannou?” Jane promised.

  Lara found Brian and Jane’s dinner parties dull. Brian’s male guests liked her and some even tried to come on to her. There was a restless need for entertainment that expatriate men seemed to succumb to in the evenings that was not so manifest during their working days. She felt that she didn’t own herself when they were around and that they mentally pawed at her.

  The wives looked her over in a different way then asked her if she had a steady boyfriend yet or was engaged. They laughed.

  “Young women,” they said to each other, “have it all, don’t they? When I was that age I was married.”

  “Are you going to have a career?” said others, “Are you selling your art yet?”“What kind of art do you do? Landscape? Still life?”

  Lara felt as if she was being chopped up and sorted into different parcels, wife, girlfriend, career woman, artist, but they didn’t join up and where and what was she? At the camp with Maria she had felt useful. Drawing or painting took her into another dimension that was sufficient in itself. Should she go back to England as she had first been advised to and get a teaching diploma and then a job? She had never really had to think about money but her holiday work had given her pocket money, not independence. The thought of leaving Chambeshi and the seasonal work in the bush was depressing and when and where would she find time to paint? Artists need studios and above all time – hours and days, weeks and years of time.

  It was only one year since her graduation. Her parents were tolerant and well off. Lara didn’t want to face the harsh reality of earning a living. She wanted to make art. All the same she was ashamed to be still living with Jane and Brian. She was exploiting her parents but what options did she have if she was to be an artist?

  “No one thinks that making art is work, because it’s solitary and silent and sometimes it’s just about being still and looking and thinking. I can’t instantly be a good artist. I have to go through a sort of apprenticeship,” Lara told herself.

  Chapter Five

  Jason

  Towards the end of the rainy season Maria and Bill contacted Lara.

  “It’s going to be a good season,” Bill said. “We are building more guest chalets and reckon we can use your artistic expertise.”

  “Of course Bill – but you know how slowly I make arty things,” Lara answered.

  “You’re a fast worker at everything else,” Bill said. “We’ll get our money’s worth from you.”

  “You’ve the gift of making things look nice,” Maria said. “We’ve got to keep to a tight budget. We want to use local crafts but it has got to look special – not tatty.”

  Lara reluctantly promised to do her best and was rewarded when Maria told her that Jason was coming back early too.

  “Bill needs Jason to get the Cruisers and equipment working properly. We reckon we’ll need both of you to help check out the game drives in the reserve. We think the game has moved this year after the poor rain in January,” Maria continued.

  Lara nodded. Many animals returned to the same locations each year with fairly minor variations but there would always be some changes especially if the river had altered its course or there had been a bush fire or major depredation of game from poaching.

  This year there had been poor rainfall and some animals, hippo mostly, had died from anthrax poisoning, a natural event that was caused by lack of good fodder and the lowering of the water table.

  Lara was delighted to be back in the bush and working very hard again. By ten at night they were all exhausted and knew that they would be awake again and working at sunrise, which every day happened slightly later. Very soon they found themselves responding to light rather than alarm clocks, just as the Chambeshians did. Lara loved the way everyone in the wild, people and animals together, responded to the lunar calendar as well. On moonlit nights Chambeshians would visit friends and stay awake chatting till the moon set. Wild creatures, even some who were not nocturnal, were always more active at full moon.

  National Park requirements meant the camp team had to take armed and uniformed game guards with them every time they took guests into the bush. Bill was planning to train Chambeshians to take on some of these duties.

  “I’m now a teacher as well. So is Jason. So is Maria. You too, Lara. These guys have to take qualifying exams in everything from first aid and basic vehicle mechanics. They must have a comprehensive knowledge of animals, reptiles, insects, arthropods and birds, as well as their habitats and habits. It’s all hands on deck,” Bill said. Lara smiled at the naval metaphor. Chambeshi was a landlocked country. The camp was far from the sea or even from a large lake.

  Maria had employed an experienced camp cook but she was training a man to work in the bar who had never seen a gin and tonic in his life before.

  Maria’s father had been a hunter.

  “A crocodile hunter, in fact.” Maria said with a mildly ironic smile. “It was a different world then. Now we really have to stop so many species becoming extinct. Our main job here is to get the Chambeshians to see what a valuable resource they have in their wild animals.”

  “Hence our training programmes and work with government,” agreed Bill, “and of course the safari business – raising the profile of the tourist industry here.”

  Their first guests turned up before the camp preparations were complete. They were friends rather than clients and quite happy to set to and help with the final arrangements before the camp opened properly in a fortnight. It was a relief to have a test run with people who were both tolerant and sympathetic, who could laugh when the towels had been forgotten or when the toilet paper left on the floor ended up housing a scorpion. The camp site was not a place that offered much privacy. Bill and Maria had some bad moments when tiredness and worry meant they lost their tempers and shouted at each other. Jason would look over at Lara with a grin and they would offer to go and see if the pool had been chlorinated or if there were jackals or honey badgers raiding the garbage bins outside the kitchen. They were easy in each other’s company during the working day but walking around the camp at night with Jason made Lara’s skin prickle. Her senses were heightened in any case by being outside
in the dark of an isolated camp in the middle of the wilderness but she knew that she was more intense and aware of the physical presence of Jason that of any danger from the bush. The evenings were cool but Jason’s body gave off a heat that warmed her even when they were not close. The smell of him was exciting too, a mixture of sweat, sun, dust and engine oil even after he had showered. She delighted in her own physical being when she was at the camp. The golden brown of her tanned body and the sun-streaks that lightened her hair gave her a pleasurable feeling of physical strength and health. She enjoyed being outdoors using her muscles as well as her brain but was quite unaware that Bill and Maria were watching her and Jason with tolerant smiles.

  Bill had plans to take clients into the game reserve on overnight excursions. Permanent camps were not allowed in the confines of the National Park but the Nature Conservancy authority had agreed that temporary camps would be allowed inside the reserve if they were made of either canvas or the sustainable local materials of grass and wood and dismantled at the end of each season. Bill reckoned that a safari that offered an authentic rough bush camp experience would, contrarily, attract richer punters.

  “Hey Jason, hey Lara!” Bill said, “How would the two of you like to make a recce into the park for me? You would need to spend a night there in the bush. I have sussed out some likely sites – nice trees – good views over a loop on the river but I need to know all about the problems – the local game and if we can get good enough drainage for some temporary long-drop loos. I know you’ll both be good on the practical stuff but Lara will see it from the tourist angle as well. We are down on guest numbers this week. If I need to I can send out a safari with Kunda – his training is now complete. The two of you can look after each other I know – but how do you feel about it?”

  Maria turned her back ostensibly to attend to some accounts, but she was listening carefully to what Lara and Jason decided to do. Lara didn’t notice. She was looking at Jason and he was looking at her. They would have a night and two days alone together in the bush. Lara felt her body lurch a little dizzily towards Jason. She knew her attraction to him was reciprocated

  Chapter Six

  Camping Equipment

  It didn’t take long to kit out the Land Cruiser for Jason and Lara’s recce into the bush to find a suitable summer camp site. They needed only the most basic equipment, plus binoculars, camera, a gun and a radio for contact with the main camp when the generator was on at night.

  “Radio contact needs the right conditions. No electric storms, no large hills or geological formations.” Bill explained the workings of the camp radio against the hiss and crackle of its static in the badly lit camp office on the evening before their trip.

  Jason was put in overall charge as he knew the area they were to explore and he delegated Lara to organise the food and the sleeping gear. That made him slightly awkward towards Lara. She knew, and she was sure that Jason knew, that once they were alone in the bush they would make love, but, Jason didn’t appear quite as sure of himself as usual. He had joked that girls could be ‘tricky’ and needed to be handled in ways that didn’t upset them, but it was clear that on the whole he found relationships with women easy. Lara guessed that her self-assured manner both challenged and provoked him. For once he wasn’t over-confident. Lara smiled to herself. The electricity that fizzed between her and Jason made her super-aware of his moods and slight anxieties. She chose a moment when the camp staff were briefly off duty.

  “Do you want to take a tent, Lara?” Jason asked. “I usually fix myself a bed under a mosquito net in the back of the Land Cruiser but – it’s up to you -”

  He left his suggestion unfinished.

  “Come and check out the stuff I’ve put together,” Lara said, looking directly at Jason with a smile. Then she set off towards the Land Cruiser without a backward glance, but with her hand held out towards him. He caught her wrist and loosely circled it with his hand as he followed her into the shade where the car was parked.

  “Wasn’t sure about how to arrange things,” Lara said, leaning into the back of the vehicle. Jason, standing close behind her, put his right hand on her shoulder and his left on the door frame. With a simple twist of her body, Lara turned into his arms and found his tongue searching greedily for her open mouth. Jason’s skin around his lips was salted with sweat, a little roughened by slight stubble. Lara could taste his last cigarette. The burning-hot metal door frame curved against the flesh of her shoulder. Jason’s hand enclosed her breast and his fingers squeezed on her stiffening nipple. The firm swell of his erection pressed against the bones of her pelvis. Lara’s body began to melt and strange sounds came from her throat.

  Sleeping arrangements in the park were decided.

  Much too soon the clang of the struck ploughshare summoning the camp staff back to prepare afternoon tea and the evening meal recalled them to themselves. Lara was trembling with delight, Jason’s eyes hard and bright as they returned to the camp office. Bill and Maria pretended not to notice Lara’s reddened cheeks and the love bite blotched onto her neck.

  “We’ll just braai some meat and take bread or mealie pap for supper.” Jason said. “Let’s keep it simple. Brew tea at dawn and eat brekker after we’ve had a good scout around. We’ll spend the first day looking along the river at the places Bill thinks are okay. Sleep at the furthest possible site and then come back and see how things look at a different time of day. Bill wants us back before dark so we’ll need to be back outside the park before the gates shut – about 5-ish I think.”

  Lara had already thought of what was needed and naturally packed it up with a couple of extras. She knew Jason liked pickle with his meat while she would need the clean taste of cucumber and maybe some oranges as well. The camp cook on Maria’s instructions had made a rich moist fruit cake and given them a substantial slab to take. They would have drinking water and a cool-box with beer. Maria secreted a half-bottle of white South African Grunberger wine into the cooler as well.

  “Us girls like a little sophistication.” she said with a smile at Lara.

  Lara carried the cool-box out to the Land Cruiser. Kunda was there checking the tool box with Jason until Bill came to find them.

  “Kunda’s rather busy with organising game trips right now Jason,” Bill said. “You can manage to get things ready on your own, can’t you?”

  It was a reproof.

  “Sure.” Jason’s eyebrow flicked up for a second. Lara had noticed that Jason still treated Kunda as a subordinate though Kunda was now qualified and they were on equal footing at work. She pushed the insight away. What mattered was the fantastic trip that she was about to take up the river with Jason.

  “This could be the start of something real,” Lara thought. “Jason and me working in the bush together. God! I want this life to last forever.”

  She imagined herself a few years hence, partnered with Jason but running the safari camp while Bill and Maria were on holiday somewhere – or retired. She would of course, still be painting and probably famous.

  Chapter Seven

  A Night in the Wild

  Lara and Jason were ready to leave before the sun rose. Bill and Maria’s camp, though outside the National Park, was on the banks of the river that made its southern boundary. Each day the camp clients would be taken on a safari into the Park and return each evening before nightfall. Lara and Jason were making the same trip but on this occasion they had permission to stay overnight in the Park. Accordingly Jason and Lara would drive to the only bridge across the river, arriving, they hoped, at approximately the same time as the Park guards opened the gates into the Park. Their exploration was to take them back along the opposite side of the river to Bill’s camp on roads that were poorly maintained and into an area that had not, as yet, been exploited for game-watching safaris.

  “It’s a really good time to be going along the river banks. We’ll see plenty
of game – should see lots of elephant and antelope – you’ll need to estimate numbers and make notes, Lara.”

  “Yes, Boss Jason!” Lara teased. They had been locked in a long and passionate embrace when Bill arrived to check their arrangements were complete. A shy man, Bill was discomforted by their intimacy and he said farewell to them with some irritation.

  “Your report will have to be thorough.” he said, “Don’t let me down.”

  Lara smiled at him and he softened.

  “Enjoy yourselves. Yendani bwino. Go well.”

  Early winter mornings are bitterly cold in the bush. The temperature can drop below zero but the extremely dry air means that no white frost crystals form and tender green plants just blacken and die. Pools of still water along the river may ice over but only until the sun reaches them. Lara dressed in several layers of light clothing under a wind-proof jacket and wound a cotton sarong, scarf-like, around her head for the start of the trip. Before midday her trouser legs would unzip into shorts and she would strip down to a tee shirt. At dawn even Jason was wearing a fleece. Lara had never heard any Chambeshian complain about extreme weather conditions but she knew they appreciated the comfort provided by their camp uniforms. She hunkered down behind the vehicle windscreen as they drove off to avoid the chill breeze. It was dark enough for headlights but the bush was still and quiet. The changeover between nocturnal and diurnal creatures happened with great stealth. This was a time of dangerous transition. The waiting silence of the bush filled Lara with trepidation and thrilled excitement. In the wild no one could predict what might happen. It was always an absolutely new day.

  When they reached the bridge across the great river, the guards were half asleep, warming themselves at a smoky fire by the sentry box. They waved Lara and Jason across, and in those brief moments the river surface was transformed from shadowed grey to opalescent pearl. The first birds began to call and the first water creatures made the river’s edges ripple and the reeds stir. They savoured the smell of the river, moist and fresh, the rank stench of decayed plants on its banks, the sweetly powerful and comforting odour of animal dung, the taste of the dry dust of the road rising up in yellow-grey clouds behind them, the clarity of every sound, the increasing sharpness of every sight around and about them. Early morning in the bush was to Lara a song of praise, a precious gift of life. This was a moment of such beauty that no artist could capture it. That it existed at all was sufficient. The two of them, herself and Jason, were the only humans in Eden and it had been made for their delight.