Sweet Roots and Honey

by Gwen Westwood

  She had given Joshua instructions about feeding Topaz. He seemed to be thriving, growing fatter and cheekier by the day. She did not think she need worry on his account. It was long before dawn and the stars had not yet vanished. The planet Jupiter was lying in the heavens like a huge glowworm.

  'They call that "Dawn's Heart",' a voice said behind her. Fabian must have noticed that her eyes were on the sky. She shivered a little in the cool dawn wind that she imagined blowing for miles and miles across the desert plains.

  'Come to the fire - I've kept it going. Ken has taken a little dried milk. I can't persuade him to eat, but that doesn't matter. As long as we can get him to the plane he'll soon have some expert care. I'm afraid the journey will be very trying and hot. We can't avoid that, but Ken is a tough young man. He says himself it was far better that he was hurt rather than Samantha.'

  'I suppose so,' Perry replied a little bleakly. Far better that no one had been hurt at all, she thought.

  Ken was still very drowsy. They had put a mattress behind the front seat and managed to make him as comfortable as possible.

  'I'm sorry to be such a nuisance, Fabian,' he murmured weakly.

  'Think nothing of it, old chap. We'll have you there as soon as we can make it and the plane will do the rest. In no time at all you'll be able to rejoin us.'

  A flicker of hope came into the young man's blue eyes. 'Do you really think so?'

  'I'm sure of it. Even if we get a substitute for you we can always do with another pair of hands.'

  Ken sighed, and an involuntary twinge of pain marred his cheerful expression for a moment.

  'I suppose Samantha is fast asleep.'

  'Would you like to say good-bye to her? I'll go and get her,' said Perry.

  Wretched girl! She had not even come near Ken last evening, because she said she could not bear to think of his injury and she had been terrified at the sight of blood. She had not been so squeamish about the hunt, had she? But perhaps faced with the reality of Ken's accident, it had been too much for her.

  'No, of course not, let her sleep,' said Fabian.

  So she was forced to let Ken go off without seeing Samantha again. Trust Fabian to interfere, thought Perry, As they set off in the dark, Perry reflected that she would never have believed it a few weeks ago if anyone had told her she would trust herself to go out into the desert with an injured man and only Fabian to find the way.

  'How will we get there?' she could not help asking. 'However do you know you're going in the right direction?'

  Fabian laughed. 'I'm well equipped - I have a compass. But don't worry. Even though I have modern equipment, I can find my way by natural methods too. Like a yachtsman, I plot my way by the stars. Some people use the Southern Cross, but I favour Orion's Belt. The third star in the middle to the right always rises due east and sets due west of you, no matter where you may be. The Bushmen say that Orion is made up of tortoises hanging upon a stick. I suppose that's because Orion becomes visible at the time when the tortoises begin to become active at the beginning of spring.'

  'Spring? I can't imagine that it's near spring here.'

  'Oh, yes. It's the dry season now, but one day quite soon the rains will come, and then the miracle happens. Overnight leaves and flowers will burst from the bushes; lilies will grow in the waterholes; insects will come as if from nowhere and the birds will return.'

  'Will we stay long enough to see it, do you think?'

  'Who knows? It doesn't last long. In no time at all the young growth is scorched by the intense heat Like youth or love, it's over soon.'

  'You sound rather cynical,' she commented.

  'Do I? I thought it was you who didn't believe in love, you who'd found that it goes too quickly.'

  By the light of the dashboard, she could see his smile and felt he was mocking her.

  'I didn't say that. I think some people do find a love that lasts. But young love is soon cut down, especially if other people interfere.'

  'So you think young love is a delicate growth that can be scorched like the flowers in the desert? But I would have thought if love is real it could outlast other people's opposition.'

  He had not experienced love as a young girl feels it, she thought. He was a hard man, not subject to gentle emotions. She did not reply, but sat silently as the truck lurched through the rough sand and bush. Occasionally Ken moaned, but Fabian had drugged him so extensively that he was not fully conscious. Far away near the horizon, Perry saw an orange glow.

  'What's that?' she asked. 'It can't be the dawn, it's in the wrong place.'

  'It's a grass fire,' said Fabian. 'This is the time of year when you get them in the desert. Everything is so tinder-dry that the sun flashing on a shiny pebble can start one. So long as they remain on the horizon and don't come any nearer we'll be all right.'

  Perry thought she would be glad when the real dawn came, for with the light Fabian might make a bit smoother progress. They had padded the space around Ken with foam rubber cushions, but even so he moaned occasionally even though unconscious, and Perry was afraid that their bumping progress was doing him harm. When eventually it became light, she found little comfort in the scene before them, for the sun itself seemed like a living presence, an enormous weird face, rising red and distorted above the yellow haze of the fires that seemed to have spread now to several points upon the horizon. Everything looked so desolate in this part of the country. There were few trees and the yellow grass stretched in an endless lonely plain with black stunted bushes here and there. But at least it was flatter and made it easier to travel a bit more smoothly. Perry turned to look at Ken. He was very pale, his skin grey under the tan.

  'Do you think he's lost a lot of blood?' she asked.

  'I know he did, but he's strong, Perry, and we couldn't have left him there in this condition. He needs blood transfusions. This is the only way. But we must get him to the air-strip as quickly as possible. According to my calculations we should soon pick up a track that's used by cattle drovers, then we'll make more progress.'

  As the sun rose higher, the heat became intense and when they saw a grove of small trees in the distance, Perry said, 'Fabian, there hasn't been any shade for ages. Don't you think it would be a good idea to stop near those trees and see if we can make Ken more comfortable?'

  'I didn't want to stop. But perhaps you're right. How does he look?'

  'Not too good.'

  'Very well then, but we mustn't waste much time.'

  It was heavenly, thought Perry, to get away from the grinding noise of the truck and to experience quiet if only for a little while. There was utter silence here except for the swishing sound of the grass in the wind. What was it that the women had been singing? Something about the grass sighing for the rain to come and my heart telling me I am alone and waiting for my lover. But there was no time for such thoughts. Perry set herself to the task of making Ken more comfortable, bathing his face in the iced water that was still cool in the flask, and readjusting the pillows. His eyes were closed, but he took her hand and murmured, 'Samantha, is that you? How good of you to come with me.' She had not the heart to tell him that she was Perry and that Samantha had remained behind. He closed his eyes and seemed to drift off into a deeper sleep. What a pity, thought Perry, that they could not stay here and let him have his sleep out - but Fabian was determined to get on to the air-strip.

  'Couldn't we stay here a little longer and let him rest?' she asked.

  'Just long enough to get something to eat,' Fabian replied. 'We won't get another chance, and you hardly ate anything before we set out.'

  The thought of food sickened Perry after the jolting journey in the truck. She turned away when Fabian pressed her to eat some rye biscuits topped with meat extract.

  'Come on, Perry, no nonsense now. You must eat this. You'll need your strength for this journey.'

  'It won't be much good if it makes me ill, will it?'

  But his expression was unyielding and to her own surprise
she took a bite of the food he had made her take in her hand. It was true she was hungry. The slight headache and feeling of nausea disappeared and she felt stronger as she finished the biscuit down to the last crumb and drank some lemon barley from the flask to which Fabian had added glucose.

  'That's better, my dear. Trust me to know what's good for you in these conditions.'

  'Of course, Fabian. You always know best.'

  Her voice was demure, her eyes downcast, but she stole a quick glance to find out what impression her statement had made. He was grinning.

  'That was rather naughty of you. You must be feeling better.'

  'Where there are trees one might expect water. I think I'll go to see if there's a spring. If there is, it would be wise to fill the flask from it just in case we need more water for bathing Ken's face. We have some, but you never know how much we may need.'

  Fabian walked away and she saw his figure receding through the small grove. Ken was sleeping in the truck and she had packed everything in, but she felt reluctant to go back to her seat. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to enjoying the breath of wind that stirred the rustling dry leaves ever so slightly. How quiet it was! She wished they could stay here for a long time before they set out again on the wearisome journey. She was drowsy, almost asleep, when suddenly she was aware of running footsteps, dulled by the soft sandy ground. It was only because she was sitting with her head close to the ground that she heard the dull thud of them. At once her nerves were alert. She opened her eyes, Fabian was running towards her.

  'Quick, get to the truck! There's a herd of buffalo not twenty yards away.'

  She staggered up and as he came up to her he got hold of her by the waist and swung her up on to the seat.

  'I doubt whether they saw me, but I wouldn't like to have to face a stampede. Buffaloes are such unpredictable creatures.'

  He swung himself up beside her and suddenly there was a crackle of dry wood like tearing paper. The copse seemed to explode and half a dozen huge buffalo burst from out of the trees. They were so close that Perry was aware of the fusty warm cattle smell of their thick dusty pelts. When they saw the truck they halted for a moment, tossed their heavy heads, wheeled around and galloped off across the plain in another direction. Fabian let out a sigh of relief.

  'Whew, that was close! Thank God they didn't choose to do that when we were sitting under the trees a little while ago. They usually run away when they see people, but if you confront them or if they think they're in danger, they can be perfect devils, more dangerous than any lion. They've got so much courage, they'll fight until they drop.'

  He started the engine and they drove away.

  'I suppose the moral is that we should inspect a grove of trees before sitting down. But there won't be much time for any more rest anyway.' He glanced down at Perry and squeezed her hand before quickly turning back to negotiating the track. 'Poor child, did you get a scare? Would you still have come on this trip if you'd known all the hazards you were going to face?'

  'I think so,' said Perry, nettled by his term 'child'. 'Whatever happens I've had many thrilling experiences and I've seen things that I never expected to see, and just meeting the Bushmen has made the trip worthwhile.'

  'I'm glad you think so. I do too. For me that's been the highlight of the expedition. I must say, Perry, you've proved to have more courage than I gave you credit for when we first met. However, the trip isn't over yet, not by a long way.'

  Why must he always qualify any slight thing that sounded in the least complimentary? she thought, but he just was like that. By noon they reached the cattle track and were able to put on speed a little. The rest of the journey was uneventful, an endurance test full of heat and dust, and by late afternoon they came into the little settlement with its couple of trading stores and a one-storeyed hotel.

  Ken woke up when the truck stopped and seemed much more aware of things than he had during the journey. Perry thought this was a good sign, and was even more relieved when they found that the pilot of the light aircraft was waiting to take him immediately to a hospital not very far away.

  'I'll be fine. Don't worry about me,' Ken whispered to Perry as she bathed his face and tried to settle him more comfortably on the stretcher that the pilot had arranged in the plane. Fabian and Perry stood at the airstrip watching the small plane disappearing into the deep blue of the afternoon sky.

  'Ken's a good chap. I'm sorry this had to happen,' said Fabian. 'However, I expect he may be able to come back. It depends how long it takes to get him better.'

  They turned away and came back to the small whitewashed hotel. It was strange to be in a building again. Although the rooms were clean, almost austere, with their shining green polished cement floors and grass mats and iron bedsteads with blue cotton counterpanes, after being used to the open air all the time, the atmosphere seemed close and heavy, smelling of the roast beef that was being prepared for dinner. Fabian left Perry sitting on the enclosed stoep with its arrangements of artificial flowers and its shabby wicker chairs and glass-topped tables, while he went to make arrangements about their rooms for the night. He came back carrying two glasses.

  'This is one of the times when I approve of your taste for whisky. Drink that up before you go to your room to brush up for dinner. I would say you've earned it.

  'Good news,' he added, as they sipped the reviving drink. 'A message has come that they're flying in a substitute for Ken. He's arriving by charter plane tomorrow morning, so we'll be able to start the journey back quite soon. I know this fellow. He's a good chap and has been working in wild life schemes for a number of years. He'll be an asset to our group.'

  'I'm glad,' said Perry.

  'I had thought that I might go to see some Bushman paintings that are not far from here. But we'll see how things pan out. In any case, if I go, I think you should remain here and have a rest before we start out on the journey back.'

  She would have no choice even if she said she would like to see the paintings, she reflected, as she had the much-needed and refreshing bath before dinner; Fabian was so accustomed to command that he had not even asked her what she would like to do. She supposed he would take the other man with him if he went. Well, that would not matter. She felt as if she could sleep for twenty-four hours at least. But when she had bathed and put on the dark blue slacks and the glamorous Pucci print tunic with its flashing kingfisher colours she felt a new person. She had washed her red-gold hair and brushed it until it shone like burnished copper, then she applied make-up carefully and finished off with a coral lipstick, even applying turquoise eye-shadow that matched one of the colours in her tunic. I suppose it's silly to take such care in a small place like this, she thought, but somehow she had a desire to appear glamorous after all these days of living in khaki slacks and safari jackets.

  'Perry, this is a change!' Fabian was waiting for her on the stoep and rose to take her arm and draw her towards the light. He smiled, eyeing her tunic. 'So you decided to pack that garment after all? Well, I must admit that tonight I can't consider it superfluous.'

  The one or two people who were residents at the hotel had already dined and they found themselves alone in a small alcove away from the main dining-room. A softly shaded lamp shed down a golden pool of light, but beyond that there was shadow, and fluffy moths rustled in vain at the screened window. Perry thought they were both feeling a relaxation of tension after the strain of the journey and the anxiety about Ken. She had rather dreaded being alone with Fabian this evening, but he was in a light charming mood and very different from the man whose stern image she had carried with her since he influenced Mark to change his mind about marriage all those years ago. She was in such a happy mood herself now that this journey had passed without mishap that she forgot to be withdrawn and careful as she usually was with men. Fabian ordered a bottle of wine, and, although the meal was certainly not up to gourmet standards, the grilled fish, beef and Yorkshire pudding tasted delicious after the days in the desert.
Fabian talked in an entertaining way about his travels and Perry found herself telling him about her life in Johannesburg and her work with Mike.

  'It's odd,' he mused, when they were sitting on the deserted stoep with coffee and a liqueur that tasted of oranges, 'most girls, especially in South Africa, don't think their life is complete unless they've married. You're young still, of course, but you seem to have a cool attitude towards men and matrimony. Tell me, has something, some happening when you were a girl, put you against these things?'

  She was tempted, very tempted, to tell him and to disclose the part he had played in the direction of her life, but even the wine had not made her as talkative as that. She yawned, and it was not really affected. She realized now how tired she was.

  'Do you mind if I go to bed now? I'm exhausted.'

  He had risen in a moment, apparently forgetting his question.

  'Forgive me - I've been thoughtless keeping you talking. Go to bed and sleep well, my dear. You've been pretty wonderful today, Perry. I won't forget it.'

  As she found her way across the open quadrangle behind the main buildings to the row of small whitewashed bedrooms, she could not disguise to herself the glow that she had felt when he said this. For once apparently he had appreciated something she had done, and all the discomfort and worry of this long day seemed worthwhile. A fan was whirring on the ceiling, stirring the warm air that seemed to her rather lifeless and stale after being used to sleeping in her little tent. She was glad she had brought the thin pale blue nightdress with its halter neck, for it was cooler to wear here and in the desert she had needed more practical pyjamas. She lay on top of the bed and tried to sleep, but the noise of the fan and the swish of the air as it followed its slow cumbersome route was disturbing. At last, however, she fell asleep.

  She did not know how long her sleep had lasted when all at once she was aware of another noise, a fluttering that was surely not that of the fan, but surely too big for a moth. She lay for a while hoping the noise would go away, but it seemed to get louder. There was not even a glimmer of moonlight in the room and it was very dark. At last she felt she must get up to settle her mind as to the character of the intruder. It hardly sounded like a staghorn beetle, for they made a banging noise and this was more like the fluttering of a bird. Yes, that was what it must be. With that she plucked up her courage to turn on the bedside light.