The river lord

by Kay Thorpe

  luctant to continue the journey.

  Drinking and talking appeared to be the main source of evening entertainment here too. Tired from a day which had seemed overlong despite its late start, Keely was not loth to respond to Mark's suggestion that she retire to her hut. The chanting began almost as soon as she reached it, beating through the night with a rhythm that stirred the senses. She went back to the doorway to view the scene out there; the firelight gleaming over bronzed bodies and animated faces, catching the paler skins of the three men seated together.

  Would Greg finish up like Paul, she wondered : a semi-recluse, settling for loneliness rather than take on the outside world again? But Greg was no defeatist. He needed challenge. That was what she had been to him until she became ill. Now he was ready for something new. The question was, what? The jungle was already conquered. Might he not turn outward next?

  Even if he did, where did she come in? Her part in his life was over. She must make herself accept that.

  She awoke early after an unexpectedly refreshing sleep, her mind leaping to full awareness of her surroundings without the moment of adjustment to which she had become accustomed. When she moved her head it was to see Greg's hammock slung a few feet away between the supporting poles. He was awake and looking straight back at her, face enigmatic in the uncertain light.

  `Why the surprise?' he asked. 'So far as our hosts are concerned you're my responsibility.' The grin was faint. `I've already had offers for you. Might be interesting to find out how they'd go about removing your symbol of purity. It's the wrong part of the world for scalpings.'

  `Maybe they'd decide I wasn't meant to lose it,' Keely responded on a deliberately light note. 'The same way you did.'

  `Is that what I decided?' It was hard to tell from his expression what was going through his mind. 'Let's call it force of circumstances.' He swung his leg over the side of the hammock apd dropped to the ground, reaching for his boots and upending them before pulling them in. 'If you fancy a cold shower it can probably be arranged.'

  `Please.' She made no attempt to lift the mosquito net. `When will you take me to photograph the Fire Flower?'

  It was a moment before he replied. 'There isn't going to be time for that. The river is still rising. I don't want to take any chances. Another storm and those rapids are going to be just about impassable.'

  But we could always port the canoe round them again, couldn't we?'

  Not easily if there's any depth of flooding above and below. I'm counting on making it back to the boat inside a few hours.'

  Providing it was still there. Supposing Quito and Mantos had taken the opportunity of making off with it? They could be back in Manaus by now, and away with whatever the Dorita would fetch long before Greg caught up with them. The fact that he himself obviously feared no such happening was some small comfort, but even he couldn't be so sure of what went on in the minds of the two half-

  breeds.

  `So we leave this morning,' she said.

  `As soon as we're packed. I'm hoping to talk them into providing us with some of that deer meat left over from last night so we won't have to stop for longer than absolutely necessary.'

  So he had had enough too. It was there in his tone. It was back to Manaus and a swift ending to this whole episode. For herself it would be goodbye to a great deal more than she had bargained for, yet given the same opportunities again she doubted if she would say no. She had discovered

  qualities of endurance she hadn't known she possessed, and which might very well stand her in good stead on future assignments. Except that there never would be another assignment quite like this one. There couldn't be.

  This time she did throw back the net, coming upright with a jerky movement. 'Greg, you promised me those shots. It's the only chance I have. Surely an hour or two isn't going to make all that difference?'

  `Yes, it is.' His tone was short. 'We're going to eat and get out of here.'

  `I'm not prepared to argue about it.' He moved towards the doorway. 'I'll get a couple of the women to fetch some water.'

  There was nothing else she could say or do that was going to persuade him to change his mind. That much was obvious. Yet without those shots of the Fire Flower growing wild the whole story lost its impact. There had to be a way of getting to them. There simply had to!

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE promised shower consisted of standing on a mat while the giggling women poured water over her from calabash shells. It might be primitive, but it was refreshing. The whiteness of her skin seemed to fascinate her helpers, who kept up a running commentary between the giggles, tracing the lines left by the bikini she had worn during the summer weekends with curious fingers. When others were called in to admire the same phenomenon, Keely thought it was time to call a halt, laughingly declining the offer of a waist thong similar to the ones they themselves wore. One or two of the younger women wore jewellery made from small shiny nuts threaded together, others had cayman teeth about their necks and calves. Black hair shone with a lustre any salon would have been proud of, in some cases hanging almost to the waist.

  Greg was talking with the headman and some others when she finally emerged from the hut. He gave her a cursory glance which bade her stay away and continued with his discourse, to the apparent indifference of his listeners, emphasising some point by tapping two fingers into the palm of his other hand.

  `Think they're going to let us go?' asked Jason softly, coming to stand at Keely's side. 'They none of them look so friendly this morning.'

  `Perhaps they're just not cheerful risers,' she quipped, refusing to allow the possibility of trouble to take hold. `They let Greg go last time.'

  `He didn't have you along then.' He gave her a swift sideways glance. 'One of the headman's sons was going on at him about you last night after you'd gone. At least, he kept pointing to your hug.'

  `I know.' She tried to keep it on a strictly humorous level. `He was making an offer for me, apparently. They think he's my guardian; a kind of father figure.'

  `Is that why you were given the same hut?' There was an ill-concealed eagerness in his voice.

  `I suppose it must be.' Keely wondered if he knew it had been Greg who had looked after her during her fever, and decided that he probably did not. 'He's been the perfect gentleman,' she added.

  `I'm glad,' Jason was flushed. 'I'd hate to think that you and he ... well ...'

  `I know what you mean, and we're not,' she said gently. `I hear you've already taken samples of the Fire Flower.'

  `And the soil it grows in.' He was suddenly enlivened. 'It's everything Inman said, and more. Some of its characteristics could belong to the Eulophia group, but it doesn't follow any exact combination known. It has flowers two inches across ! Come and see for yourself. I can easily unpack one to show you. They shouldn't have wilted too much yet.'

  `I'd rather have seen it growing wild,' Keely acknowledged ruefully. She paused a moment, eyeing him. 'Is it far to the place?'

  `About twenty minutes' walking, that's all. There's a trail of sorts leading right to it from the other side of the crop field. We're lucky to have seen the actual flowers at all. According to what Greg learned from the Indians it only blooms once a year for about eight weeks, and we're almost at the end of it now. That festival he saw when he was here before was one of three where the girls can use the flower itself, so they only have three chances a year of finding a husband. Fascinating, isn't it?'

  `Yes, it is.' She was smiling at his enthusiasm while turning over the idea growing in her mind. Twenty minutes'

  walking. She could manage that. Greg was still occupied with the Indians. What was to stop her making a quick visit to the site where the orchid grew while the others prepared for their departure? If she were slippy about it nobody need know what she was planning until it was too late, and an hour certainly wasn't going to make so much difference. She cast a glance in the direction of the water swirling past beneath the outer row of huts. `Do you think the river
has risen any since yesterday?'

  `I think it's rising all the time.' Jason looked worried again. 'We only had light rain yesterday, but it will be heavy in the mountains by now, and it all has to come down.' His tone changed a little. 'You realise how close we must be to the source? If we'd had enough time we might have been able to chalk up a further achievement.'

  Keely turned back to look at him quizzically. 'For someone who only three nights ago hated every minute of this trip, you've certainly changed.'

  `Learned might be more accurate.' He sounded sheepish. `I haven't endured any worse than anyone else, and now we're here there's a real sense of fulfilment. It's a feeling I don't want to lose. Maybe I'll never be as happy to plunge into the unknown for the sake of my work as Mark and you are, but I can see there are times when it all becomes worthwhile. Are you going to come and have some breakfast? We're cooking the last of the beans before the tins get blown. Some of the kids sampled those too, but they're not keen. You'd think they'd welcome a change of diet.'

  `Oh, I don't know. You can't expect them to acquire new tastes overnight.' Keely was wondering how she could get to her camera case without arousing suspicion. If either of the Colbys realised that she planned to enter the forest on her own they would take steps to stop her. The thought of the lonely trail brought a momentary trepidation, quickly squashed. There was little large game in this part of the

  world; the two species of cat were reputedly rarely seen. Her main fear was of snakes, but if she wore her socks over her trousers bottoms as Greg had shown her before and watched where she was putting her feet there was no real danger. The big snakes she discounted altogether. Contrary to popular belief, they were most unlikely to attack a human being without extreme provocation. In all their journeying they'd never even caught a glimpse of an anaconda, much less a boa-constrictor.

  `I'd like to just check my camera before I eat,' she said carefully, thinking how weak it sounded. 'Perhaps get a few more shots of the village from a different angle. If we're leaving right after breakfast I might not get another chance.'

  `Yes, okay. I'll be getting the rest of the stuff together. Mark went off up the bank away, but he shouldn't be long.'

  That was a help. One less to ask questions. She went with Jason to the but where their gear was stored and secured her camera case, checking to make sure she had ample film left on the spool. She was hungry, but not uncomfortably so. On impulse she took a couple of the hard oatmeal biscuits which had been their substitute for bread this past week and slipped them into her pocket. They would do to nibble on if the pangs overtook her.

  Outside again in the sultry heat she considered the heavy sky and hoped she would make it there before the rain made filming too impossible. A certain shakiness still pervading her limbs reminded her that it would do her little good to get soaked again herself, only she couldn't afford to let that possibility put her off either. Greg had vanished, although the group outside the headman's hut, suggested they might be continuing their discussion in there. It was probably the request for meat which was causing the trouble—or at least, finding a suitable exchange rate. Bartering was the only system known.

  Using her camera last night to take flash shots of the corn-

  pound, she had attracted a great deal of curiosity, but with nothing to see for her activities they had soon lost interest. This morning she was regarded with stoic indifference as she worked her way across the compound. The novelty of their coming was obviously beginning to wear off. One could only hope it would not be replaced by suspicion.

  Once beyond the straggly mandioca plantation it was possible to pick up the trail Jason had spoken of, although it was by no means as clearly defined as she could have hoped. The spongy litter underfoot deadened the sound of her movements; in some obscure way making her feel less of an intruder. With the sun almost fully obscured by the heavy clouding of the sky there was even less light than usual to penetrate the layers of leaves, despite the rather more open aspect of the forest at this point. The silence was broken only by the calls of various birds, and that not too frequently. It was the only sign of life other than her own.

  After a while she noticed the ground was beginning to slope downwards, the descent gradual but definite. The sudden darting movement from a decaying tree trunk lying across her path resolved itself into a lizard-like creature some eighteen inches in length which disappeared into a clump of fern without pause for reflection. A clump of red fungi clinging to a narrow tree trunk seemed to have developed a life of its own until on looking closer she realised that the mass consisted of literally hundreds of caterpillars crawling slowly in the same direction. The light was poor, but she risked a couple of timed exposures. Thoughts of danger, of the people she had left back there in the village, even of time itself were forgotten as she moved on through a world suddenly come alive before her eyes. There was beauty everywhere in the twilight depths if one looked for it.

  She came on the clearing quite suddenly, emerging from

  the relative gloom of the big trees into a place where light and shade played more equal parts. There was a sound of running water coming from somewhere, but she didn't look for it, her attention caught and bound by the same spell which had captured Inman all those many years ago. The Fire Flower grew directly from the ground, each separate spur supporting three or four of the large blossoms, the colour fading slowly from the central deep scarlet to a pale orange gold where the outer petals curved and twisted. Keely stood and looked for a long time before making any move to take the photographs she had come for, unwilling to interrupt the still loveliness of those first moments of discovery.

  Afterwards she couldn't resist snapping off one of the shorter spurs to take back with her, tucking it behind her ear with a wry little smile. She would have to remember to remove it before she reached the village again; they might not take kindly to her wearing it. The possibility of her being back before anyone realised she had gone was doubtful, but it quickened her footsteps regardless.

  The heat was enervating, and the outward journey must have taken more roll on her strength than she had realised, for every few moments she had to stop and rest. Trees rose straight and tall about her, no two within discernible distance exactly alike. As always the lianas looked like so many huge snakes looped across between, some broken and hanging down almost to the ground, inviting an attempt at travelling Tarzan-style down the jungle corridors. Sound floated down intermittently from the upper levels, but there was still little life to be seen on the ground, apart from some insects. Only at night did the majority of forest creatures emerge to forage for food.

  It was some time before it began to dawn on her that she was no longer following the faint trail back to the village. Instead of rising the ground appeared to be sloping down-

  wards again, the trees to crowd about her thicker than ever. Ferns filled the dips and hollows, some as tall as her head. Heart thudding, she stopped and looked back the way she thought she had come, but could find no recognisable point. Even then she refused to give way to panic. The village couldn't be so far away. She hadn't had time to wander off the track more than a few hundred yards. Greg would guess where she had gone once he realised she had taken her camera. He would come looking for her. Meanwhile she had better stay put. No sense in putting even more distance between them.

  Standing with her back propped against one of the few unadorned tree trunks with the camera case at her feet, she tried not to let the sombre weight of the jungle press in on her. That way lay hysteria and she had to keep her wits about her at all costs. She wasn't lost, she was just mislaid. Greg would find her. Of course he would find her !

  At which point the sense of being watched took hold, she could not have clearly said. Looking about her she could see nothing she hadn't seen before, yet the sensation persisted, prickling the hairs on the back of her neck.

  The gentle waving of a clump of fern some twenty yards away drew her attention with a jerk. Eyes riveted on the tall fr
onds, she waited for some animal to come charging out, fangs and claws at the ready. The jaguar was a great deal smaller than the tiger, she knew, yet equally deadly to its prey. Their reputation for rarely attacking humans seemed suddenly less reassuring right here and now with the possibility staring her in the face.

  The sound of a rifle shot fired from no great distance brought a leaping reaction, yet she dared make no move which might bring the thing that watched down on her. A shout followed the shot, and shortly after another, further away this time as though the searcher might be moving in the wrong direction. Still she stood frozen against the tree.

  It took a second shot to break the deadlock, the ferns parting abruptly at the base to allow a large furry animal with a long, sabre-like snout and a bushy tail to come scurrying out as fast as the awkwardly curved claws jutting from its forepaws would allow it to move. An anteater ! Keely almost collapsed in hysterical laughter as the animal vanished from sight again into the dim reaches, heading for the distant sound of water. A third and fading shout from Greg brought her back to her senses, jerking her upright to yell back.

  By the time he appeared through the trees she was in possession of herself again, though only on the surface. Her pulse raced at the look on his face.

  `You fool,' he gritted. 'You damned idiotic, reckless little fool!'

  `I know.' Reaction took hold suddenly in a fit of trembling she could not control as the full impact of what might have happened struck home. 'I—I thought I could make it back before you were ready to leave.'

  She didn't move as he came up to her, seeing the blaze in his eyes through a pulsating mist over her own. One hand came up roughly to rip the orchid from her hair and toss it away, then she was in his arms with his mouth searing hers, feeling resistance crumble on the floodtide of respopse, feeling her knees buckle as he bore her down into the soft, yielding layers of forest debris.