When the Singing Stops

by Di Morrissey

  SEVENTEEN

  The next morning Madi sat on the little verandah outside their bungalow eating a mango and Connor swung in the hammock, both enjoying the mild temperature and low humidity before breakfast. The day would hot up soon enough and they could expect a tiring day out in the savannah, for Kate had hinted that she had an interesting program of activity lined up. They already realised that keeping pace with Kate would require effort.

  Connor was still tired. ‘This is so relaxing. I just love being with you. Why don’t we put it off and just hang about and . . .’

  He didn’t get to finish the sentence. As Madi tossed the mango seed into the bushes she spoke over him. ‘That’s for evenings, Connor,’ she said with a cheeky grin. ‘We’re going to make the most of every minute of the daylight seeing the wonders of this neck of the woods. I rather think you’re very much out of condition.’

  ‘Exactly the point I was trying to make. I’m sex starved. Need the exercise.’

  ‘Rubbish. Come on, shower time. That’s about as good as you’ll get at this hour. I’ve just got to get this sticky mango stuff off my hands.’

  He followed her into the bathroom and leaned against the door as she washed her hands. ‘You’re really enthusiastic about this part of the country, aren’t you? Most people take in a few sights and lapse into a state of cynicism bordering on despair. A tropical boredom sets in. But not you. Everything is wonderful and exciting, and full of tourism potential.’

  Madi turned and dried her hands. ‘So?’

  Connor shrugged. ‘Well, sure it’s a bit of fun, but surely you don’t seriously believe that places like this really have the potential to turn over big bickies, or are the stuff this country needs to get on its economic feet, a sort of grass-roots alternative to industrial development.’

  Madi thought it was the most absurd bathroom discussion she had ever heard and had trouble keeping a straight face. ‘Connor, we are about to strip and jump in the shower together and you want to raise the question of economic feasibility of tourism. You’ve lost a shingle.’ She pulled off the shirt she wore as a nightdress. ‘I want to say two things. Firstly, it probably will help this country more than you think. Secondly, get your gear off and into the shower or miss out on the fun.’

  After breakfast they boarded a large canoe, called a corial, made from a hollowed-out log with a painted ornamental bow and a wide stern where Dali sat by the outboard motor.

  ‘He made this one,’ explained Kate. ‘Absolutely ideal for a small party exploring the backwaters.’ After a short run, Dali cut the motor and using the paddle, propelled them slowly around the bend of a creek into a small lake. The surface was covered in giant green Victoria Regina lilies with burnished undersides to their great, round bowl-shaped leaves, which Kate said could hold an infant. Between the lily pads rose majestic pink flowers. Kate reached out and pulled one up and handed it to Madi. ‘Beautiful,’ exclaimed Madi, ‘absolutely beautiful.’

  Connor took off his sunglasses to appreciate more fully the colourful magnificence of the scene. ‘You’re right. It’s like a scene out of a fairy story.’

  They paddled on and heard the birds before they saw them, though their nursery had been heralded by occasional swoops of warning adults gliding above them.

  ‘Oh, just look,’ sighed Madi.

  The trees that fringed the waterways were festooned with scores of large twig nests precariously balanced on thin exposed branches. Hundreds of white egrets and grey herons preening feathery tails and wing feathers sat on the nests or flew idly around the area calling to each other. In some nests, babies’ beaks jutted out as they cried for food. Kate handed each of them binoculars so that as they drifted they were able to study the birds more closely.

  They paddled to another area where they heard woodpeckers hammering at tree trunks while kingfishers darted at the water and the air rang with the call of the aggressive, yellow-breasted kiskadee . . . ‘kis-ka-dee . . . kis-kis-kiss-ka-dee . . .’

  Madi suddenly spotted a strange bird and pointed it out to Kate, who studied it through her father’s old field glasses.

  ‘Red-fan parrot, see the red and blue ruff standing up around its head, and the round tail? It’s giving out “intruder beware” signals.’

  ‘The dark bit round the eyes makes it look as if it’s wearing sunnies,’ chuckled Madi.

  ‘Every part of Guyana has its own special bird life attractions,’ said Kate. ‘In the Pomeroon in the north, the scarlet ibis are magnificent. Thousands of them coming in to roost at sunset completely change the landscape into a rose-toned world. The same when they fly out at sunrise.’

  Once they were past the natural bird sanctuary, Dali restarted the motor and they headed out into the river. The marshy, thick mangroves and bush gave way to open grassland on either side.

  ‘There they are,’ said Kate, pointing ahead to a small group waiting with several horses.

  ‘My gosh, do we have to ride horses?’ Madi sounded nervous.

  ‘Ah, ha! Something to daunt the adventurer at last!’

  Madi turned to Connor. ‘Can you ride?’

  ‘You bet. Spent holidays out on my uncle’s sheep farm. And once rode with the hounds in Oxford.’

  Kate quickly sized up the situation. ‘If you want, you can be a Land Rover vaquero, Madison. We’re only trotting about the savannah to check on the cattle and cull a steer for meat.’

  ‘Sounds fun,’ said Connor enthusiastically.

  ‘Now you’re doing boy’s own stuff you’re enjoying yourself, eh,’ grinned Madi.

  He kissed her cheek as Dali steered the corial into the bank. ‘I’m glad I met you. I could have spent this entire job in Georgetown and never got to play cowboys and Indians,’ he whispered. ‘You’re fun to be with.’

  Madi felt she was on horseback even in the front seat of the Land Rover. It bounced and lurched as Dominic, the Amerindian driver, raced through the grass that brushed the car at window height. Ahead of them and to one side, the four riders galloped—Connor, Kate and two vaqueros. The driver, clearly enjoying the bolt across the country as much as the riders, never stopped grinning as he furiously twisted the steering wheel, letting out occasional loud whoops of delight. He spun the wheel from side to side as the vehicle lurched and slithered through the grass and bucked over hidden obstacles.

  The sun was high and hot but it was a dry and not unpleasant heat. The exhilaration of the ride, the sight of the horses streaming away in the distance and the thought of what Connor was experiencing, made Madi’s spirits soar. The plains stretched ahead to the hazy line of mountains where great rocky outcrops rose like lunar hills. Then above the grass they saw the horns of steers, then a fence and a thatched shelter. One of the vaqueros signalled to Connor to help him cut out a large steer as Kate and the other rider guided the rest towards the corral.

  Racing around the herd, Dominic pulled up the Land Rover beside the corral and indicated to Madi that she should sit on top of the wooden railing. ‘You count.’ They were his first words of the day to her.

  She shaded her eyes, watching the athletic turns of the horses as they streamlined the cattle into formation. The two riders on the outside—one she recognised as Kate by her red bandanna—prevented any breaks and finally the lead steer led the herd into the corral. Dominic shuffled the two gates in the pens, separating the calves from the herd.

  Madi had to concentrate on the counting and called her numbers to Dominic who rammed the gate shut and nodded. Obviously her figures tallied with his.

  Meanwhile out on the savannah, Connor and the vaquero raced after the lone steer, driving it towards a tree which stood with its leafless dead branches akimbo in the waving grass. The vaquero lifted a rifle to his shoulder, a shot rang out, and the running steer dropped into the long grass. The men dismounted and within minutes, the steer was swung by a rope around its back legs into the lower branches of the tree, ready to be butchered and collected later by the Land Rover.

  Bac
k at the corral Kate rode up, spoke briefly to Dominic, then turned to Madi.

  ‘There’s a new calf missing. Very new. I saw it. Come, Madi, let’s look. Hop on that horse, he’ll go softly.’

  Madi hesitated, so Kate dismounted, boosted her into the saddle of the vaquero’s horse and swiftly shortened the stirrups. She folded the reins neatly and placed them in Madi’s hands. ‘Feel his mouth, don’t yank or pull or panic. Let him lead you. Relax. Just follow me.’

  Madi nodded, her confidence raised by Kate’s own confidence in her. She let the horse walk out and sat back in the saddle determined to enjoy this new experience.

  Within minutes, Madi’s body responded to the gait of the walking horse, she dropped her hands to the saddle, keeping a gentle connection with the animal, her spine beginning to meld to the rhythm as a feeling of elation swept over her.

  The view around her looked different, she felt now as though she were part of it all and, as she followed Kate who glanced back and gave her a rewarding smile, Madi experienced a new sense of exhilaration. Had anyone else, even Connor, told her to get on a horse and ride, she would have found reasons to refuse. But Kate instilled a sense of well-being and fun along with an empowering belief—you can do it. Instinctively Madi gave a little nudge with her heels and obediently her horse moved up beside Kate.

  ‘What do you think happened to the calf?’

  ‘Lost its mother in the long grass. We might be lucky and find it.’

  They rode on in silence, Madi enjoying herself enormously, wishing her former colleagues back at the hotel in Sydney could see her now.

  The daydream was shattered with frightening suddenness as a great shadow swooped in above her and for a mad moment Madi thought a plane was crashing on them. There had been no warning of danger except the rush of air and a shout from Kate who kicked her horse and galloped forward. Madi’s horse followed suit, plunging forward while Madi gripped the reins for dear life, her knees hugging the saddle, trying to stay put as the horse surged after Kate’s.

  In front of Kate, a huge bird swooped low, turned and dived and for a moment looked as if it was going to knock Kate from her horse.

  The bird was an eagle, its wingspan stretched over two metres and its extended feet showed talons the size of a grizzly bear’s. To Madi’s amazement Kate rode at full gallop straight at the bird, standing in the stirrups to wave her arms and shout at the eagle. The bird veered away, gaining height in seconds to circle above, screeching. Kate pulled up and Madi’s horse also stopped and she slid around its neck, losing her balance, her feet coming out of the stirrups, but she stayed in the saddle.

  ‘Harpy eagle. What a beauty.’ Kate shaded her eyes as the cream and brown bird of prey drifted on an updraught, its wings motionless.

  ‘I thought it was going to attack you. I’ve never seen a bird so huge.’

  ‘Largest eagle in the world. On the endangered list too. Means that calf is around here somewhere.’ Kate dismounted and helped Madi down. ‘Let’s lead the horses for a bit, see if we can find any signs or hear anything.’

  They walked in the shoulder-high grass and Kate pointed to a small trail of broken stalks. They followed it and Madi touched Kate’s shirt. ‘I heard something.’

  Kate nodded. ‘It’s over there.’

  It was a low gurgle, a kind of bleat, and there, lying in the grass in a small dip, was a new-born calf, one leg ripped and bleeding. Stricken brown eyes pleaded at the two women. ‘Hold the horses.’ Kate handed Madi both sets of reins and scrambled down the slope.

  She was quite near the animal when the eagle struck, landing on the calf’s neck, its talons encircling and piercing it. Blood gushed and the calf struggled. Kate rushed forward, as Madi screamed ‘No!’. The horses reared, Madi tried to hold them steady, and the eagle lifted in the air. With a furious pounding of wings, it sought to gain the freedom of the sky with its limp burden of dangling Bambi-like legs and twisted neck. It struggled low and slowly for a hundred metres, then the calf fell from its grasp. The eagle circled, then swept in and crashed down on the fallen prey hidden in the grass. It didn’t rise again and Madi knew that its hooked beak was now ripping the tiny carcass to pieces.

  Kate turned and calmed the horses.

  ‘A shame. I hope it died quickly. Law of nature, eh?’ They rode back in silence.

  Leaving the vaqueros to do their work with the cattle, Kate, Madi and Connor rode for an hour along a trail that took them into a low range of hills to a gorge with a sparkling pool. A waterfall that ran over rocks of jasper and sandstone fed the pool which was fringed with spindly palms. Madi and Connor stripped down to their swimsuits and dived in, welcoming its refreshing coolness with enthusiastic shouts and a splashing waterfight.

  Kate puffed at a hand-rolled cigarette and grinned. Eventually Madi and Connor joined her on the shady bank. ‘It’s a little paradise,’ enthused Madi, leaning back on her elbows, and taking in the beauty of the spectacular gorge.

  She tried to imagine a casino and hotel filled with thousands of tourists here, but it didn’t make any sense at all. ‘Have you heard about the casino project being talked about for these parts?’ she asked casually, deciding the need for more information was critical to her decision to take the casino job.

  Kate responded with a hint of disdain in her voice. ‘Yes. I heard the rumours. An El Dorado company project, I believe. Sir Walter would turn in his grave. Possibly it’s more serious than just talk. As you can see, what this spot really needs is a casino. Quite uncivilised without one, wouldn’t you say?’ She gave Madi a smile and stubbed out her cigarette on a rock.

  Connor reacted with intense interest. ‘Kate, what do you mean a company called El Dorado?’ he asked.

  Kate nodded. ‘That’s what the rumours say.’

  ‘Did you know El Dorado was involved in this casino, Madi?’

  ‘Sasha St Herve refused to name the backer,’ Madi said. ‘He didn’t give me much detail at all. I’m to get that later if I decide to prepare a promotion concept for him. Apparently, they plan to fly the gamblers in from North America, Europe and Asia. Be something exclusive, I suppose, a casino in the beautiful wilds of Guyana.’

  ‘Well, it could provide a lot of jobs. Bring money into the area,’ Connor said. ‘What do you think, Kate?’

  ‘The money would go into the pockets of the rich, as usual, and not to my people. They’d be in service as they’ve always been.’

  ‘Kate, a big casino can become a catalyst for development and bring other businesses and opportunities into the area. Casinos are popping up all over the world, and making a big economic impact. Surely a deal will be made to put something back into the local community. I mean, who owns the land?’ asked Connor.

  ‘Most of the Rupununi is state owned. It’s leased in allotments of five, twenty-five, and ninety-nine year leases mostly.’

  ‘So there, it’s easy. The government can insist that a percentage of profits must be ploughed back into civic amenities or develop some other industry to support the casino. Where would their fresh food come from, for example? Couldn’t local villages supply that?’

  ‘That’s all very well but it’s tokenism in the big scheme of things,’ retorted Kate. ‘And given the history of this place there’ll be corruption at the top and very little money will find its way down the economic ladder.’

  ‘If it did get the go ahead, what would you do?’ asked Madi.

  Kate stiffened slightly. ‘Fight. I’d fight. If I had to, I’d fight alongside Xavier and our people to prevent such a monstrosity erupting on our doorstep. The perceived benefits would not be worth the epidemic of social problems that it would bring.’ Kate stood, a gesture that signalled an end to discussion of such a distasteful subject. ‘We should get back to the river. It will be difficult returning in darkness.’

  Night closed in swiftly on the water and kabouri flies descended in swarms to bite and suck blood from exposed skin. Kate produced a torch and began picking out the innovativ
e navigational aids—a series of tin cans tied to trees along the waterways.

  Back in their hut after dinner that night, Madi sat cross-legged on the bed beside Connor as he tucked the mosquito net in around them. ‘El Dorado—dream or nightmare,’ said Madi.

  Connor was relaxed about it. ‘As Matthew said, untangling who is really behind this El Dorado group is another matter. Not that we should be so concerned with that, I suppose. El Dorado only affects us obliquely. Matthew says progress at the bauxite mine is going smoothly. Gordon Ash is a hard worker and has rallied the troops. Stewart Johns says there is light at the end of the tunnel now. Whatever happened with funds being siphoned from the old mine company to El Dorado is yesterday’s news. However, I always have to be alert to possibly corrupt machinations behind the scenes in any deals I set up here for IFO funding.’

  ‘What about poor Ernesto?’ demanded Madi. ‘If El Dorado owns the casino, then his murder could also be connected to that.’

  ‘He obviously started to do some unravelling in government departments. We’ll probably never know who was involved with his death or what level this corruption reaches.’

  ‘Well, this certainly influences my attitude to the whole casino proposal. I’m not getting involved with anything that’s got shonky backing and furthermore—’

  ‘Madi, you don’t know that it’s shonky or illegal or underhand or whatever. Business is done in many ways. A consortium forming a shelf company is common business practice for tax or privacy purposes.’

  ‘Secret purposes, you mean,’ exploded Madi. ‘Connor, you’re missing the most important point. Who wants a huge complex like the Amazonia casino out here? Though I have to admit, initially I thought it sounded sort of fabulous. But not now.’