Elephant Song

by Wilbur Smith

  Only a decrepit venereal baboon like Sepoo would marry a drooling old hag.

  The sounds of his ranting fury gradually diminished as he retreated into the forest and Sepoo lowered his bow and turned to his wife. I haven't enjoyed myself so much since the day Pirri fell into his own trap on top of the buffalo that was already in the pit! he guffawed.

  But he described you well, my lovely wife. Pamba ignored him and went to where Daniel Armstrong lay unconscious, half buried in dirt and dead leaves.

  She knelt beside him and examined him quickly but thoroughly, plucking the ants from the corners of his eyes and his nostrils. I will have to work hard to save him for Karl-Ki, she said as she reached into her medicine bag.

  If I lose this one, I don't know where I will find another one for her.

  While Pamba ministered to Daniel, Sepoo built a hut over him where he lay and then lit a little fire to disperse the mosquitoes and the humidity.

  He squatted in the doorway and watched his wife work.

  She was the most skilled medicine woman of all the Bambuti, and her fingers were swift and dextrous as she cleaned the wound in the wazungu's back and applied a poultice of mashed and boiled roots and leaves. Then she forced him to drink copious quantities of a hot infusion of herbs that would bind his bowels and replace the fluid that his body had shed.

  She crooned and muttered encouragement to the unconscious man as she worked, her bare dugs swinging wrinkled and empty as a pair of leather tobacco pouches from her bony chest and her necklace of ivory and beads clicking each time she moved.

  Within three hours Daniel had regained consciousness. He looked up dazedly at the two little old people crouched over him in the smoky hut and asked in Swahili, Who are you? I am Sepoo, said the man. A famous hunter and a renowned sage of the Bambuti. And I am Pamba, the wife of the greatest liar in all the forest of Ubomo, said the woman, and cackled with laughter.

  By the next morning Daniel's diarrhea had dried up and he could eat a little of the stew of monkey meat and herbs that Pamba had prepared for him. By the following morning the infection of the wound in his back had abated and he was strong enough to begin the journey to Gondola.

  Daniel went slowly at first, using a staff to steady himself, for his legs were still wobbly and his head seemed to be filled with wool and floating clear of his shoulders. Pamba kept him company, leading him at a gentle pace through the forest and keeping up a constant chattering punctuated with shrieks of merry laughter, Sepoo ranged afar hunting and scavenging in the usual Bambuti manner.

  Daniel had already guessed the identity of the mysterious Kara-Ki who had sent the pygmies to rescue him, but as soon as Pamba gave him an opportunity he questioned her further trying to get her to describe her patron in detail. Kara-Ki is very tall, Pamba told him, and Daniel realised that to a Bambuti everybody else in the world is very tall.

  And she has a long pointed nose. All Bambuti noses were flat and broad.

  Pamba's description could apply to any wazungu, so Daniel gave up and hobbled on after the little woman.

  Towards dusk Sepoo suddenly appeared again from the forest with the carcass of a duiker he had killed hanging over his shoulder. That night they feasted on grilled liver and fillets.

  The next morning Daniel was strong enough to discard his staff and Pamba increased the pace of the march.

  They reached Gondola the following afternoon. The pygmies had given Daniel no warning that they had arrived, and as he stepped out of the forest he was presented with the dramatic view of the little community.

  Its open gardens and streams, and the high snow-capped mountains forming a grand backdrop to the scene. Daniel, Kelly Kinnear greeted him as he climbed the verandah steps, and even though he had half expected it, Daniel was unprepared for his own pleasure at meeting her again. She looked fresh and vital and attractive, but he sensed a reserve in her as she came to him and shook his hand. I was so worried that Sepoo might not get to you in time. . . Then she broke off and stood back. God, you look awful. What on earth happened to you?

  Thanks for the compliment, he grinned ruefully. But to answer your question, a great deal has happened to me since we last met. Come into the surgery. Let's have a look at you, before we do anything else.

  Couldn't I have a bath first? I find it difficult even being near myself. She laughed. You are rather strong on the nose, but so are most of my patients. I'm used to it. She took him into the surgery and laid him on the examination table.

  After she had gone over him thoroughly and inspected the wound on his back, she remarked, Pamba has done a pretty good job. I'll give you a shot of antibiotic and I'll put a fresh dressing on your back after your bath. It should have had stitches but it's too late for that now.

  You'll have a new interesting scar to add to all the others. As she washed her hands in the basin, she smiled at him over her shoulder.

  You look as though you've been in a fight or two. Always the other guy's fault, he assured her. Talking about fights, you never let me explain myself at our last meeting. You jumped on your motorbike before I had a chance. I know. It's my Irish blood. Can I explain now? How about a bath first?

  The bathroom was a thatched hut, and the bath was a galvanised iron tub just large enough to contain him if he kept his knees up under his chin. The camp servants filled it with buckets of steaming water heated on the fire outside. There was clothing laid out for him: khaki shorts and shirt, faded and worn but clean and crisply ironed, together with a pair of rawhide sandals. one of the servants took away his stinking blood-stained shorts and muddy boots.

  Kelly was waiting for him in her surgery when he had dressed. What a transformation, she greeted him. Let's fix that back. He sat on the single chair and she stood behind him. Her fingers were cool and light and quick on his skin. When she spoke he could feel her breath on the back of his neck and smell her. He liked the feel of her hands and the sweet clean smell of her breath. I didn't thank you for sending your pygmies to save my life, he said. All in the day's work. Think nothing of it. I owe you one.

  I'll call on you. You were the very last person I'd have expected to find here, Daniel told her. But when Pamba described you I began to suspect who you were. How did you get into the country?

  And what the hell are you doing here? If Taffari gets hold of you it will be a shooting party on the beach or a head-dress of hornets. Oh, so you're beginning to find out the truth about Ephrem Taffari, that he's not the saint and saviour you thought he was? Don't let's fight again, he pleaded. I'm still too weak to defend myself. You're as weak as a bull. Look at all that muscle.

  Okay, now it's time for your shot. Lie on the bed and drop your shorts.

  Hey! Can't I have it in the arm? You haven't got anything I haven't seen before. Get on the table.

  Grumbling he lay face down, and lowered his shorts halfway. Nothing to be ashamed of, in fact, not bad at all, she assured him, and slid the needle home. Okay, that does it. Get dressed and come to dinner.

  I've got another surprise for you.

  A dinner guest, somebody you haven't seen for years. In the sunset they crossed from the clinic to Kelly's living quarters at the end of the clearing. On the way they stopped for a minute to watch the sunset turn the Mountains of the Moon to a splendour of gold and flames. I carry the memory of this beauty wherever I travel in the world, Kelly whispered. It's one of the things that draws me back. And Daniel was moved as much by her reaction to it as by the grandeur of the scene itself. To express his accord with her he wanted to take her arm and squeeze it, but he kept his distance and after a while they moved on.

  There was a dinner-table laid on the verandah of Kelly's bungalow and a solitary figure seated at it, who rose as they approached. Doctor Armstrong. How good to see you again. Daniel stared at him in astonishment and then hurried forward. I heard that you were dead, Mr.

  President, that you had died of a heart-attack or been shot by Taffari.

  The news of my death was slightly e
xaggerated. Victor Omeru chuckled and took Daniel's hand.

  I found a flask of whisky in my medical chest, Kelly said. Tonight seems like an auspicious occasion to administer it. She poured a little of the golden liquid into each of their glasses and offered them the toast. To Ubomo! May it soon be released from the tyrant. Dinner was a simple meat of fish from the river and vegetables from the gardens of Gondola, but there was plenty of it and the conversation at the table never slackened or palled.

  Victor Omeru explained to Danny the circumstances of the revolution and his overthrow, his escape into the forest and his activities since then.

  With Kelly's help, I have been able to turn Gondola into the headquarters of the resistance to Taffari's brutal dictatorship, he ended, but Kelly pressed him eagerly. Victor, tell Daniel what Taffari has done to the country and its people since he seized power. Daniel has been duped into believing that Taffari is a black Christ figure.

  In fact, Daniel is here to shoot a production that was to extol Taffari's virtues. . .

  No, Kelly, Daniel interrupted her. That's not the way it was. It's far more complicated than that. Originally I accepted the commission to make the film for personal and private reasons. He went on to explain the murder of Johnny Nzou and his family. He told them of Ning Cheng Gong's involvement and how he had traced the Lucky Dragon to Ubomo. He told them about Chetti Singh. I'll be frank with you both, he said at last.

  I wasn't concerned with Taffari and Ubomo's real problems when I came here. I wanted my revenge and the film contract was only a means to that end. Then, after my arrival, I began to find out more about what was really going on in the country.

  He told them about the atrocity at Fish Eagle Bay and the forced labour he had witnessed and filmed. Victor Omeru and Kelly exchanged glances, and then Victor nodded and turned back to Daniel. Taffari has seized at least thirty thousand of the Uhali people to work in the mines and the logging camps. They are slaves, kept in the most appalling conditions.

  They are dying like flies in the camps, starved, beaten, shot. I cannot begin to describe to you the horror of it. And he is devastating the forest, Kelly cut in. He is destroying millions of acres of the rain forest. I saw the mining unit at work, Daniel said.

  Actually, what he is doing there at least is in line with my own convictions on controlled use of a country's natural assets on a renewable and sustainable yield basis. Both Kelly and Victor stared at him in disbelief, and then Kelly blurted out angrily, You approve of what he is doing to the forest? Are you out of your mind? It's rape and pillage.

  I was right about you the first time! You are one of the plunderers!

  Hold it, Kelly. Victor held up his hands. Don't use inflammatory language. Let Daniel tell us what he saw and what he filmed. With an obvious effort Kelly brought herself under control, but she was still pale with anger and her eyes blazed. All right, Daniel Armstrong, tell us what Taffari showed you and let you film. He showed me the MOMU unit at work. . . The MOMU, Kelly interjected. MOMU singular- Kelly, please. Victor stopped her again. Let Daniel finish before you interrupt. She was breathing heavily, but she nodded and sat back as Daniel went on. Bonny and I filmed the MOMU and Taffari explained how the track of the vehicle would be replanted after it had passed.

  Replanted! Kelly snapped, and Victor shrugged helplessly and let her continue. My God! Did he tell you about the chemical reagents they've started using in the past few weeks to refine the platinum as it passes through the tube mills of the MOMU. Daniel shook his head. He told us of his determination that no reagents nor catalysts were to be used during the mining process. Even though it meant a forty percent drop in the production of platinum and monazite. And you believed him?

  Kelly demanded. I saw it with my own eyes, Daniel told her. He was starting to get angry. I filmed it. of course I believed him. Kelly jumped up from the table and fetched a map of Ubomo from the next room.

  She spread it in front of Daniel.

  Show me where you saw the MOMU in action, she ordered.

  Daniel considered the map and then placed his finger on a spot just north of Sengi-Sengi. Hereabouts, he said. A few miles north of the camp.

  Sucker! Kelly blazed at him. Taffari set you up. He showed you the pilot scheme. It was a little show for your benefit. The main mining operation is here. She placed her fist over an area fifty miles further north. Here at Wengu. And it's a damned sight different from what Taffari showed you. How is it different?

  Daniel demanded. And by the way, I don't like being called a sucker.

  You let yourself be conned. Kelly moderated her tone. But I'll tell you how the main operation is different from the pilot.

  First of all, it is - Hold on, Kelly, Victor Omeru intervened gently.

  Don't tell him about it. it would be much more impressive, and he'd be more likely to believe you if you showed him.

  For a moment Kelly stared at Victor and then she nodded.

  You're right, Victor. I'll take him up to Wengu and show him.

  And while we are there, you can film just what that bastard is doing to the forest, and show it to your great pal Sir Tug Bloody Harrison, if he doesn't know already. I'm not a cameraman, Daniel objected. If you don't know how to use a VTR after being around them for so many years, then you aren't very bright, Doctor Daniel. All right, I could use a camera. Not very artistically but adequately, if only I had one.

  Where do you suggest I find a VTR in the middle of the forest? What happened to the one your red-haired girlfriend had?

  Kelly demanded. Bonny isn't my girlfriend. You're a great one for hurling accusations, he began, and then broke off and stared at Kelly.

  Damn it he said. You're right. I left the VTR in the Landrover.

  If Taffari's lads haven't found it yet, then it's still there. Why don't you go back and fetch it? Kelly enquired sweetly.

  I'll send Sepoo with you.

  I have brought you the head of the white wazungu, Pirri, the hunter, announced dramatically and unslung the net bag of plaited bark fibre from his shoulder and dropped it in front of Chetti Singh.

  The head rolled out of the bag and Chetti Singh jumped back and exclaimed with revulsion. There was no skin left on the head. The raw meat was putrefying and the stench was fierce enough to make him gag.

  How do I know that this is the head of the white wazungu?

  Chetti Singh demanded. Because I, Pirri the hunter, say it is so.

  That's not the highest recommendation, never mind, Chetti Singh said in English, and then reverted to Swahili. This man has been dead a long time; the ants and the worms have half eaten him. You did not kill him, Pirri. No, Pirri admitted. This stupid wazungu had eaten a poison mushroom and died in the forest before I could find him and kill him. The ants had eaten him, as you say, but I have brought you his head, and that was our bargain. Pirri mustered all his dignity and drew himself up to his full four foot six inches. Now you must give me what you promised me, especially the tobacco. It was a long and forlorn hope. Even Pirri realised that.

  To obtain this head Pirri had exhumed one of the mass graves that the Hita guards had dug in the forest for the corpses of the slave labourers who died in the camps. You are certain that this is the head of the white wazungu? Chetti Singh demanded. He did not believe the pygmy, but on the other hand he had to placate both Ning Cheng Gong and President Taffari. He dared not admit to them that there was a possibility that Armstrong had escaped. Pirri was offering him an easy exit from his dilemma. It is the wazungu, Pirri affirmed, and Chetti Singh thought about it for a while. Take this he touched the reeking head with his toe, take it back into the forest and bury it. What about my reward?

  Especially the tobacco? Pirri's tone became an ingratiating whine.

  You did not bring me the whole head.

  The skin and hair were missing. Therefore I cannot give you the whole reward.

  And I will give it to you only when you bring me the teeth of the elephant, as we agreed.

  Pirri l
et out a shout of anger and drew his machete. Put that knife away, said Chetti Singh reasonably. Or I will shoot your head off with this. He showed the pygmy the Tokarev pistol concealed in the pocket of his bush jacket.

  Pirri's scowl became a beatific smile. It was only a little joke, O master. I am your slave. And he sheathed the machete. I will go and fetch the teeth of the elephant as you command. He picked up the severed head. But as he skipped away into the forest Pirri's guts and chest were filled with so much anger that he thought they might burst.

  Nobody cheats Pirri, he whispered, and slashed at a treetrunk with the machete as he ran. Pirri will kill the man who cheats him, he promised.

  You want a head, O one-armed and greasy man. I will give you a head.

  Your own. Daniel Armstrong is dead, Chetti Singh told them. The Bambuti brought me his head He died in the forest. There can be no doubt? President Taffari demanded. None at all, Chetti Singh affirmed.

  I saw the head with my personal eyes. That means the woman is the only living witness. Ning Cheng Gong looked relieved. You should get rid of her immediately, Your Excellency. She should disappear in the forest, just the way that Armstrong did. Ephrem Taffari picked up his empty glass and rattled the ice cubes. Captain Kajo hurried across the room and took the glass from his hand. At the small bar in the corner of the president's office he Poured gin and tonic. Aren't you forgetting the videotape?

  Taffari asked, as Kajo respectfully handed him the drink. Of course not, Cheng said. But once she has recovered the tape from the embassy we must get rid of her. He hesitated. I could arrange that personally. Ephrem Taffari smiled at him over the rim of the glass.

  Ah, yes. He nodded. I have heard that you have a rather unusual hobby, Mr. Ning. I am not quite sure what you are implying, Mr.

  President, he answered stiffly. I was merely offering to make certain that the job was done properly. We don't want any more loose ends.