4-16 AGE RESTRICTION

INTRODUCTION

CHANDELIER (Author)

"You can be a glorious king… or a meager road sweeper - but on the end EVERYONE dances with the Grim Reaper!"...-Ghastly, but striking true words uttered by the infamous mass murderer Robert Alton Harris before his electrocution in the U.S.A a couple of years ago. "Life is a journey-so enjoy the ride" echoes another famous proverb in our ears so often, and we are roller-coastering through our entire existence on this world from hour to hour, day to day and year to year - without pausing to think: "What is the true aim for me per se on this world. What am I supposed to be, what is my goal - why was I created? "So many of us simply just don’t care a damn - except for eating, sleeping, working and multiplying. It doesn’t matter what you might think - or what occupation in life you have. When you have completed your circle of life - that ghastly reminder of Robert Harris becomes YOUR reality.... you are going to dance with the Grim Reaper!!!

People from the earliest beginning of the millennium had this urge to worship. Some do worship earthly materialistic objects, - some worship human beings, the creation- some themselves and others again something or some deity in a higher or unexplainable dimension. On the other side of the coin, we get those convisticles that always are waiting in the wings, ready to pounce and kill others for personal gain, to struck deep into the hearts of the lesser privilege, whether by greed or empowerment purposes, but the line of good against evil runs it’s paradoxical course, since the beginning of time, always in a parallel context, and always ending in a paradox when along the way, moving too close to each other. We all sometimes wonder where we will end up when the “Grim Reaper” and us has completed our little waltz. The following stories I wrote is an abstract view from my personal point about the way people like you and me sometimes go through their lives. I did not single out any person in particular - or an act in particular - but when you read through certain stories or phrases for that matter, you might just find that you have read about yourself.... or the way you have been living up until now, those secret motives, fetishes and dreams we hide behind our mirror of protection. They say that every person is a mirror, an image, and when you break that mirror, shatter that image, you will see the real motive that is hidden behind. We all like to show the world we are intelligent, handsome, sexy, strong…whatever…but at night, when we lie down in our enclosed room…alone…the real us expose itself…behind closed doors…and sometimes…that self is a horribly cold and awfully calculated animal…waiting for the right moment to be released!!

What I portrayed in the following stories was only to capture the everyday scenarios into one centrifugal point or imaginary story. Some might be morbid...others hilarious...but in each one of the characters there is a little bit of you and me hidden inside! Do not be scared to read the stories…don’t be shocked…or offended…in this you will find yourself in one of the characters…that may be YOUR story…you will recognize it, so take it and lock it away together with all the others behind your mirror….in your little Pandora’s box.. Nobody would know…only you, because we all know ourselves so well…it forms a part of our lives. All stories are fictitious and do not reflect on any specific person, but some- the place or incident. I took real incidents. And worked fiction around it…the scary part is that some really happened…those type of beings that called themselves civilized, really live among us.

Also take note that the stories are written to represent a wide variety of moods, cultures, characters and scenarios, but each one of these happenings unfold into its own very special life reality. Some are shocking…some outright vulgar…but then again…some very appreciative. Between the two covers of a book- you start with a story, not just a story, but a imaginary journey into the self, a total new world from the one you live in, where the characters come to life… because a story is a journey - a journey to far, far away places. A journey to a place and time we choose…. so why not enjoy the ride?

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The following story is a semi-true reflection of what really took place in the Republic of Kenya during those troubled years of independence...the human sufferings the white people had to endure under black terrorist rule. The story itself though, is fictitious, and by no means meant all happened or reflects on any real or living character. I used the real scenario of places, dates, figures and relevant characters to form the nucleus and foundation of the story and happenings as to add a certain sense of reliability to the reader, but created the story itself and main characters from figment of my imagination. For the Boer people in South-Africa today...this story might be a cruel reality- for they are being slaughtered on their farms just the same way under the ANC communists as the whites have been murdered in Kenia during the Kenyatta Mau-Mau uprising.

This is a story about the white Boer Trekkers...the black tribes and their believes- and the drama surrounding the characters...it could have been real life events. Some people might feel offended by it- but then again- reality sometimes is offensive for those that are constantly living in a lie.

( The Author)

**THE FORGOTTEN PARADOX- ( The untold version)**

1. Chapter 1

Summer was about to come to pass its halfway mark late in the month of December 1960. The place,- The Republic of Kenya- or Jamuri ya Kenya- as it is called locally. Beautiful and evergreen with a blue haze around the Ebbedeer Mountains - and cool ever flowing rivers. With plentiful as the latter was- so horrible and dark was it’s past, and now so uncertain it’s future. The scenario,- utter destruction , murder, war and rebellion. Population - around 27 799 000 in an area of around 582 600 square kilometers. The subtropical landscape was turning into a luscious green blanket of forests this time of the year, and blue streams of crystal clear waters were lazily flowing through the dense woods. The chatter of primates high up in the roof of the tropical forests- and beautiful different songs of various species of birds filled the hot thickets in the jungles around the mighty Mount Kenya. Like a huge blue giant it towers above the evergreen jungle carpet around it. As this was the time of year that temperatures easily rise up to an unbearable forty degree centigrade next to the equator, there was no ice on the crest of the sleeping giant - first conquered in 1899 by Halford MacKinder. This majestic giant towers 17 057 feet above sea level with a gigantic radius of approximately 50 kilometers, and is called Kilinyaga by the Kikuyu - Doenyo by the Masai. It is divided from its summit by a deep cleft, creating two perpetually snow capped peaks with well-watered slopes. The lower slopes to the east and south are densely settled and intensely cultivated, while the northern side is much drier. The only other mountain around that still has an ice cap was Mount Kulai, further to the north, and then Mount Elgon to the northeast. The jungles of Kenya always hide its quota of dangers. From snakes to poisonous frogs to tsetse flies to carnivores and so on. Populace and modern infrastructure during this age in Kenya was basically non-existent, and only about 13,9 percent of the roads in Kenya were paved. Four-wheel drive vehicles on narrow hazardous gravel roads did the main modus of traveling around here. To travel ten kilometers through the thick bushes on a clear day could easily take up to an hour - taken in consideration no mishaps befall the unlucky traveler. This also was the time when British rule, since the British claimed the Crown colony of Kenya in 1920- was rudely overthrown by gangs of Mau-Mau” freedom fighters”- a secret type of service from the Kikuyu tribes under the crazy political influence of the self elected president Jomo Kenyatta, Authoritan Nationalist and leader of the KAU political party, which was founded in 1944. Fighters- they were not- just a bunch of low intellectual hooligans starving and on the rampage. Jomo Kenyatta was thus then appointed as leader of the Kikuyu dominated KAU party in 1947- not that he himself was of outstanding intelligence, but somebody had to raise hell amongst the colonials. The land intrusions plan started as early as 1952, but only eight years later took a nasty turn orchestrated by clans from the neighboring Tanzania. The main reason for this, some would say, was the rejection of the British Empire to the claim of self-independence in 1923. Others would reason that barbarians outside the political spectrum saw a new jewel to be raped- so why not jump on the bandwagon. Whatever the motivation- these low sub human species went berserk when they saw the possibility of food and power. Everything that remotely smells colonial was destroyed and butchered without mercy. The few white settlers that still clinged on to a spark of hope that the violence would somehow subdue - had life coming their way as if orchestrated direct from the deepest pits of hell. All over the country and in neighboring Tanzania, bands of unruling black bandits ran amok,- murdering and looting everything they could lay their hands on- true African style- if it stands- kill it, and if it lies- rape it!.

To the few white farmers and businessmen that tried to cope with the sudden change of political climates from colonial rule to solemn crazy dictatorship - making a living was becoming more and more dangerous by the minute. People were horribly murdered because they were European, Indian or Arab; cattle were butchered and mutilated because they belonged to settlers, farmhands were killed and intimidated because they were so-called part of the white oppressors - and even innocent herds of game were shot simply because they happen to be on the one or another settler’s land. Beautiful gracious houses were destroyed and buildings with a colonial flavor being pushed level with the ground with bulldozers. Nothing, but nothing of the white populace was left to trace. Those whites that stuck to their guns would find their cattle mutilated by means of hacked hind tendons - or a cow in pregnancy being gutted or dismembered and left to die a horrendous death in agony. Farms were simply confiscated or invaded by the newly appointed corrupt hierarchy - hunger for independence and power was rife - and one-week removal notices were given. Fields of Pyrethem and tobacco were burned, crops destroyed, dwellings burned, farm implements destroyed or pushed into rivers ………and this all for the sake of the so called “African freedom or African retribution for the rape of their country by fortune seekers and settlers”. It was aimed at all that was “alien” to Africa- including whites, Indians, Arabs and anybody that worked or sided with them.

It was during this scenario of hate and turmoil connected with genocide of a small white nation that Timo was born on a farm about hundred and fifty kilometers from mighty Mount Kenya near Eldoret. His father was of German and Dutch origin - and his mother more British…although her father was as Dutch as can be. They were simple farmers with no high school education, and made a living by farming with Pyrethrum and cattle…and occasionally his mother would travel the thirty odd miles to the town of Kisumu - where she ran a movie theatre with her 16 mm projector. Their basic needs were supplied by themselves from the farm, but when the need for something arose that couldn’t be supplied by the land…there was always the shop in their vicinity near the small town of Nakuru…. a little further than Kisumu. If the need exists for crops to be sold or cattle to be auctioned - his parents and older brother Baus, would take the Bedford truck and transport the goods to the capital Nairobi - or to the export port of Mombassa if need to be.

Life on the farm was tough - and like all the other few white people that were left scattered all over Kenya - the family had a hard battle to make ends meet. Timo was the youngest of eight children. By the time of Timo`s birth his eldest brother - Gary - had died of an epileptic fit whilst swimming, and died instantly. Thus his parents were left with seven mouths to feed. Timo`s mother was married before and had four children - two boys and two girls - before her husband died in a car accident. After marrying Timo`s father the couple had four more children - again two boys and two girls. Timo was the last in the queue…. and quite unexpected as well as unwanted. His dad always referred to him as a bastard child from another lover when a fight erupted between him and his wife. To add more tension to their hardship was the fact that his mother married his father more out of desperation and security than for love. She had always loved her ex husband and therefore cuddled a soft spot towards his offspring. When she found out that her current husband had an undying love for the bottle - and was a good spender of hard earned money - her attitude towards him and his children became more and more harsh. She so much yearned to leave him for another lover she met, but due to circumstances she was forced to stay with him. As it is, -she drove to the town of Thompson’s Falls more often to see her lover under the pretense that she must show one or another movie to the townsfolk again. Her mystery lover was a rich and respected game farmer - and the two of them spent many a night together in other places rather than in a movie cinema.

His father on the other hand was born and bred in South-Africa. How he landed up in Kenya is still a mystery. He was born in a small town in the Orange Free State, called Hoopstad. His dad was a well-known man for his beastly strength and inhumanly short temper. Nobody in and around the little town even so much dared to get on the wrong side of strong Ian Brodie. It was said that he could kill an ox with his fist, and heave a small car into the air for a tyre to be changed. Funny enough -he loved his son with a passion for he was the only boy, and supplied his son with whatever was required. How Little Lawrey turned to the nectar of the gods, as well as becoming a womanizer could only be attributed to the fact that he always got his way. When he matured, he grown a passion for the artistically side of life…and with daddy’s help and money studied the performing arts. He moved rapidly in learning musical instruments - and no wonder by the age of twenty-five, could play nineteen instruments altogether. At the age of thirty-two, he became a conductor with a symphony orchestra in Johannesburg. This then gave him the so much desired opportunity to expand his knowledge of different alcoholic beverages as well as investigate the female anatomy in depth with various good and not-so-good companions.

Here in the limelight, he quickly added the third component to his fast moving lifestyle. - A component that would later on cost him his life. This component is well known to us all, but in those days still a new danger unknown…. called L.S.D! The combination of these three addictions with the shock he received when his father died, plunged Lawrey into the black abyss of severe addiction. One thing led to another and soon he had to borrow money to supply his addictions, which again led to the loss of his inherited farm in the district of Vivo- near the South African town of Louis Trichard, and the cold shoulder of family members. He had somewhere stashed some bonds in a company, and was sometimes in the gold business, but nobody ever knew for sure exactly how much he made - or for that matter - lost - or what precisely he owned. He regularly borrowed money from his nephew - Dave De Swardt, to keep on moving and sustaining his day to day needs, even stayed for free in one of the latter’s dwellings. Somehow through all this, in his quest for riches, he wandered across the border and landed up in Kenya, where he met the unfortunate newly widowed Joan (who was under the impression that he was a rich man back in South-Africa). After a short courtship they were married and he moved to the farm she now had the solemn ownership to.

Exactly why these two got married no one will ever know. Some say it was for money - and others said they just fitted together in the way their lifestyles were so diverse,- him a drifter- and she a hard bitten feminist. One goal they shared in common was the urge for riches, and that might have been the bilateral connection. Whatever the sinister reason - these two landed up together as husband and wife for what it was worth, by accident, circumstances, and a weird crank of life… nobody knows. With Timo’s other six brothers and sisters out of previous marriage and current wedded offspring in this anti-climax- the seven children grew up on this beautiful farm against the backdrop of the blue Ebbedeer mountain ranges.

2. THE UP RISE

In the year of 1960 when Timo was born there had been a general unparalleled up rise by the local Mau-Mau rebel group against the white settlers. The newly chosen government of president in waiting, Jomo Kenyatta did not by any means tried to stem the flow of vicious and horrendous attacks on white communities, but preferred to turn a blind eye to the pledges of the victims for he had to please the majority black voters in the regions and the overall feeling among the population was one of hate and rejection against the imperialism of the British rulers. Kenya wanted sovereignty and freedom of oppression from Britain and was seeking independence whether by dialogue or by war. The queen’s matelotes - as they have been doing for so many decades all over the world, simply turned around and scurried back to the United Kingdom with all their wealth they had stolen from the inhabitants and left the white farming community that had interests to protect, high and dry in the mercy of the destructive marauders. Day in and day out, night in and night out, the white farmers had to repel inhuman attacks on themselves and their livestock. Horrible methods of killing and barbarism spread across the region. Mothers who expected babies were tied to growing bamboo stalks on the ground, and when the shoot breaks the ground - it grows through the body of the person tied above it on the ground, dead or alive. Expecting mothers were slashed open and unborn babies taken out and killed. Livestock were attacked and the ankle tendons hacked off so that the animals cannot move. Animals were slashed open alive, crops were burned, farmhouses plundered and flattened with bulldozers. Game were shot and left to rot where they fell and farms attacked at night and whole families murdered in a frenzy of hatred. This was the scenario now playing itself out in the plains and jungles of Kenya, something Britain and the international community did not want to know, revealed or advertised. In the midst of all this the British government just undeterred skulked away behind their mansions with tails between their legs and allowed themselves a crude chuckle behind their cups of tea. It was like a scene from a horror movie.

On the farm where Timo lived with his family, the sight was not much better. Every now and then Mau-Mau impis attacked the farm and because of intimidation, the farmhands co-operated with the attackers. So many times when an attack took place - the family guarded the entrances with guns and drums of acid .The moment an attacker shows himself, he was either shot or got sprayed in the face with a locust pump full of burning acid. It sounds inhuman, but cruelty had to be answered with cruelty, since law and order flew out of the back door with the British, and kangaroo law was restored. Many livestock had to be executed to relieve the poor animals of their agony. Many a letter was written by Timo’s mother to the queen - but sadly, like the British really are - his mother only received a sigh among the winds of “ oh dear, oh dear…oh dear”. Nothing was ever done, or a finger moved to answer the distress calls.

For one year the endless battle raged on between the forces of reason and the forces of uncontrollable political madness. It was just about one year after the first spurts of intolerance started that Timo’s parents received a letter from the big Induna Kenyatta himself in which he explained that the country are now nearly free of the hated British colonial rule. The few remaining obstacles would be delt with soon - Africa style, and land had to be re-distributed among the local population who was deprived for so long by white money mongers. He kindly pointed out that the government was willing to pay a poultry sum of 3000-00 pounds for both farms of seven thousand acres, buildings, implements and livestock included. Should Timo’s parents refuse this generous offer, they simply have three weeks to withdraw themselves and all their belongings from the farms or the government will take a hand in the proceedings! This was the straw that finally broke not only Timo’s parents, but also a lot of other communities that still hoped for a miracle. It was decided that it was now the time to move if any safety was to be guaranteed. Timo’s parents decided that South-Africa was the only option, not only for their family connections, but the country was still ruled by a white government and was at least stable.

3. THE TREK

Late one evening, as the family returned from their daily chores, Timo’s father summoned everybody to the kitchen. He ordered coffee and told them all to sit down at the kitchen table. After a while he announced that he and his wife, with some other farmers, decided to abandon the farms and start to trek southwards to South Africa. He pointed out that the trek will be a long one, and may take some weeks. He roughly indicated that they will have to drive from Eldoret to Kisumu, then to Nakuru, past the Mara river, to Nairobi, and then to the border town of Namanga- where they will cross into Tanzania, past Mount Kilimanjaro- over the Serengeti - through the Tarangire National park until they reach Dodoma in Tanzania, where they will make their first stop to replenish. This will be around about a five hundred kilometer route. He stated that what is going to be tough, is the fact that they will be escorting large trucks, and most of the roads are pathetic. Further more, the monsoon season is in full swing and they could expect lots of intervals, not even to mention possible attacks. Once replenished, they will move from Dodoma to Iringa, over the great Rualta river, past the treacherous Kipengere mountain ranges, again over the Rufiji and Luvengu rivers to Tundure, where they will cross into Mozambique - where their second stop will be at the little town of Mecula to replenish - another five hundred odd kilometers through some tough country with many dangers and hardships. The women and children will have the luxury to fly to South Africa by a friendly pilot by the name of Carr Hardly- that will pick them up at the town of Kisumu. From there they will have to enter the Republic illegally. They will just be dropped off at the border town of Beitbridge at night! He and his wife will organize people in the Republic to pick them up and connect them with their different families from there. He paused as there was a knock on the door, and a big bearded man stuck his head through the opening: “ Jambo mimsa- habari yako?” The newcomer promptly greeted-which means: “ Hallo Missus- how are you?” Timo’s mother looked up and smiled. “Ohh- Frank-jambo. Mosouri Frank- Mosouri. Wewe taka kau?”(Hallo Frank- fine thank-you. Do you want some coffee?”) He looked around after greeting the rest.” Mimi panna joa mimsa”-(I don’t know)-“ Family is in the car” Timo’s mother then ordered him to call them- which he does with a loud voice over the shoulder into the darkness. He then walked up to Timo’s father.” Have you told them?” Timo’s father nodded. “ Yup- and the other folks will also be coming any time now”. Frank was the next-door neighbor and family friend. After his family arrived, they sat down and as the evening progressed and the other members arrived, they discussed the trek, map out the routes, provisions times, troubles and generally talked whilst drinking coffee until deep into the next morning.

It was not until nine days later that the packing and preparations started in earnest. Stocks had to be sold, implements dumped or sold, only necessities packed, farmhands enlightened - money matters organized and a lot of running to and fro. On the morning of the tenth day there was a rumour of thundering trucks and cars on the farmyard. At three o’ clock in the morning everybody was woken and enjoyed breakfast after which all the loose and last little things were packed. The convoy kept on thundering in until about twenty past six - where after a meeting was held to finalize the program for the day. Dark clouds already started to pack the sky with their ominous warnings, and a slight drizzle warned the trekkers that they could expect difficulties from the word ”go”. The men ran around the vehicles, scream orders, tighten ropes, pack utilities, test their vehicles, while the womenfolk helped the family to clean up, make coffee etc. At round about eight o’clock the convoy was ready- with the small vehicles in the middle for protection- and the big trucks at the front and back. By this time the rain was coming down real hard, and little streams started to flow down the dirt track. The morning was thus then greeted with the thunder of mighty engines and the stench of gasoline in the air. At ten minutes past eight, Frank in the front truck gave the sign that the convoy can now proceed- and slowly the revving monsters start to stumble into life- the trek had begun!

The most hazardous part for the trekkers would be the first three hundred or so kilometers until they were past Mount Kilimanjaro. It means that they would have a relative easy ride until they reach Kisumu- but from there to Nairobi life would be difficult. They want to try to avoid taking on the Great Rift Valley. This valley was formed 10 to 20 million years ago owing to rifting of the earth’s crust and running about 8000 kilometers from the Jordan valley through the Red sea to Mozambique. This valley is marked by a series of lakes - including Lake Turkana- or Lake Rudolph. The most parts of this valley are created out of volcanoes and consist out of geological faults, for example in southern Kenya cliffs rise up to thousands of meters. The road to Eldoret ran just around the edge of the valley, but the stretch to Nairobi via Nakuru runs right through some rough parts of the valley, with Nakuru in the middle of some treacherous parts. Once they reach Mount Kilimanjaro from it’s northern side, they will have the hardest part behind them, for around the northern side of the mountain there is poorer forest with little settlement, and the chance of being attacked on the road lesser. It will be on the southern side where attacks are most likely to come from, the fact that this part is densely populated and Mau-Mau activities a problem. This then means that they have to push merciless with no rest to the first point of safety.

The sun was starting to pave its way through the dense rain clouds when the first trucks disappeared into the thickets of the jungle on their way to Kisumu. Speed was reduced to only around thirty kilometers per hour for the light vehicles cautiously had to seek their way around the puddles of water. The little bush road was full of potholes and sharp rocks. As the farm was situated in a low valley, water from higher ground used the road to travel downwards, thus causing erosion with slippery rocks and mud continuously sloshing from the top. The trucks slowly crawl their way through the muck- but the smaller vehicles keep on slipping and sliding. This was breached by anchoring each small car to a truck- and together climbed the contours upwards. It was about quarter to ten when they eventually reached the top. Frank was standing on the bumper of his truck and took roll call. Luckily none of the vehicles got stuck or ran into problems. The party decided to push on to Kisumu as quick as possible, where they would meet another two trekkers- Doctor Lowe and Carr Hardley. Carr was a wealthy businessman in the Kitale district - further north of Eldoret- but he was to fly to South Africa by own private plane, and had offered to send his water bowzer and another truck and trailer with some of his personal belongings with the trek. Doctor Lowe on the other hand was the regional medical examiner stationed in Nakuru, but decided to seek better and safer havens for his family. Thus the fact that the trekkers had to move on, for they had to rendezvous with the other parties at round about three o’ clock in Kisumu.

As the trek decent from the top of the valley, they entered into the thickets of the rain forest. Thick bamboo and evergreen plants encircle every turn the road made. Frank did not like this. He realizes that they had to be prepared for an immediate attack, for the Mau-Mau knows these jungles, and as guerilla fighters, they also mastered the art of ambush and camouflage quite well. An uneasy feeling crept up his spinal cord as he steered his truck into the dark thickets. He then suddenly stopped. He jumped out of his cab and halted the convoy. First to emerge from his cabin was Baus. Frank shook his head:” My friend- I think we must get the artillery ready. I do not trust this piece of jungle. Better see to it that all vehicles have at least two guns in place with enough ammunition. We will also have to rig up the spotlights. Let the womenfolk and kids get into one of the hard skin trucks with two men to protect them. I do not like them to get stuck in this rubbish in an ordinary car with no protection. Let Peter and the rest get the locust pumps and acid in the ready- one on each truck.” Frank looked around him. Thick bamboo rises high up to the roof of the canopy- with low trees and leaves overhanging the little road.

The road snakes through this thicket with no straight part longer than ten or fifteen meters before disappearing around another dubious corner again. All around the convoy there is dark patches, for the sun never actually gets the chance to lighten this far down below. Frank could smell death around the corner. Slowly he took his gun from the side holster and signal Peter to join him next to the engine cab for watch duty while the others prepare themselves for the unknown. While Frank and his co-driver Peter was keeping a vigil eye out for the unexpected, Baus went shouting to the other drivers as what to do next, and a frantic activity broke loose with people shouting and organizing defense systems. Spotlights, which were usually used for night hunting, are now turned into searchlights, and mounted on the trucks. Main lights are turned onto bright beams and torches start to prey the sides of the thickets for anything moving.

Onto the front truck Lawry and Baus mounted a Vickers machine gun that was obtained from its previous British masters by way of bribing- not that they cared much. Peter manned this piece of equipment while another farmer Len Davis was handling the searchlight- like a hunting party, only difference will be that they are now the prey. The bush suddenly become like day as lights peered one after the other into the shadows of the trees and grass. The metallic sound of guns being cocked could be heard every ten or so seconds. People are now getting nervous and women pressed kids against them for protection. Other women hid kids into cupboards for protection, to be able to add extra hands and firepower to the men- should they be needed. People are re-allocated to new vehicles and so on. It was nearly an hour later that everybody was ready to move on. An ominous silence fell on the jungle as everybody awaits Frank’s go-ahead.

4. CRASH LAND

CHAPTER 2

The sun was breaking through the dense clouds high over the plains of the Marsabit rural district. At 4000 feet above the evergreen landscape, the Neiva Paulistina 56 sailplane of Carr Hardley appears only to be another speck in the outstretched blue sky above the cloudbanks. Like huge balls of cotton the Cumulus Numbus clouds towers for thousands of feet into the sky as if reaching anvil like to the stratosphere. Like an angry wasp the little plane darts in and out of the banks to avoid up draughts. Carr bought this old airplane from a connection in Brasilia. He obtained the old plane at a mere 8000 pounds because of the connection’s friend who worked at the manufacturer of the plane at Sociedade Aeron’autica Neiva.He bought the braced high set wing monoplane for it’s endurance and fuel efficiency- not to mention the low price. At maximum speed this old aircraft can still get 142 miles per hour out of her 150 horsepower Avco Lycoming O-320 A flat four piston engine. She’s not a beauty- but for the type of work she is doing, it really does not matter.

Some of the hand-made landing strips Carr had to use would make even a vulture work for his takings. As local courier service, he was more in the air than some of the local bird species. He owned three bi-planes and two transporters, which he bought from earnings derived through straight and conspicuous deals with local and overseas traders. Carr was a jolly type of person, with no care in the world. He never was married, had no children and was a sort of lone ranger with only life, women and booze to enjoy. Sometimes a nice hard brawl in one or the other local pub would lend him the opportunity to participate in the local relaxation programs of the community, which sometimes would make him end up in the local jail. He was a sturdy character with short red hair. Although he was short tempered, most of the times he enjoyed a good laugh and was generally known as a joker. Carr had no definite friends, for he believed a partnership usually becomes a sinking ship, but almost every one in Kenya knows him.. Enemies he had neither, for he believed no man should go to bed angry- therefore if a problem should arise- the only way to solve it was by the law of the knuckle. He liked hunting and the nature.

Freedom was his essence, that the reason why he enjoyed flying, for up there he had peace and was unattached and unaware of the turmoil down below. Living in his small house with only his pets and maybe a loose woman or two to care about, he was in his element. Today his brown hunting companion, a Bull Terrier mongrel called Rusty, was joining him on this trip. Carr was on his way at 5 o’ clock that morning already. Gambu Masirere, the local game ranger chief / vetenarian, phoned yesterday to request urgent transport for vaccine from Wajir in the eastern region to be brought to him at the vetenary hospital at the Meru National park. On arrival he found that the stocks only arrived from Addis Ababa in Nigeria the previous day, and are still at Marsabit due to transport problems. This forced Carr to fly an unchartered and unscheduled route to the latter and do the pick-up. Carr now had to fly straight to Meru, and then to Nanjuki for gasoline after crossing the Mount Kenya ranges. The extra lap will cost Carr in respect of time, and the surging up draughts being created around the mountain’s steep slopes will also not be pleasant for he must be at Kisumu at around three to meet the convoy of Frank and the others. For this reason Carr is pushing hard and straight. The old Lycoming engine sounds like an angry bee as she produces every bit of her energy. The air speed indicator appeared to be stuck to the 140-142 mark, while the altimeter jumps up and down as the little plane rides the airflows. At this altitude other planes would need the carburetor heater, but with the heat in this country, the heater will be an unrealistic approach. Inside the plane Carr starts to feel drowsy. The dozen or so pints of the local brew he had walloped along the way are now counting against him.

The air is humid and sticky. The Perspex windshield acts as a magnifying glass for the sunrays that penetrates the cabin. The windows are open, but even the wind that ventilates through the plane are hot, and if it were not for the yaw that had to be trimmed every ten or so minutes to keep the aircraft from drifting, Carr would have been sound asleep. Every now and then he had to push the joystick down to descend. As drowsiness set in, his hand relaxes on the stick, with the result that the plane gradually ascends to higher altitude and Carr finds himself dangerously close to maximum IAAF regulation height of 5000 feet that might land him between the big birds from and to Nairobi International Airport. Radio transmissions here are scarce due to the mountains as well.

Carr thought of the past week’s operations. He remembered the trip he had to make to Moyale on the northern border. To reach Mojale, he had to take the shortest route over the Chalbi desert. The air was so hot he had to land on the desert floor to take a rest due to fatigue. Getting off on the sand layers was quite an experience, and very nearly he got stuck in the heated desert sand with no communication and little to drink. Carr decided that he was getting too old for heroics and will refrain from trying stunts such as that ever again. He’s thought was shattered when the radio transmitter started to produce distorted messages. Carr turned the “squelch” button to get a clearer sound, but the messages keep coming through garbled. Carr turned the nose of the aircraft more southeast to give the VHF aerial a better position. A faint voice came through the loudspeaker:” Echo Alpha Kilo 173…Echo Alpha Kilo 173…respond please….” It was Carr’s international registration. He could recognize the voice. It was the Air Traffic Controller at Nanyuki who serves this part of the airspace.

He picked up the microphone:” Echo Alpha Kilo 173 stand by…” Silence fell for at least twenty seconds. “Echo Alpha Papa 173…Meru wants to know your ETA?” Carr studies his watch.” Tell Gambu I will be there at around twelve if this old bird and the weather holds…” The operator on the other side signs off and Carr checked his flight plan. On this present course he will reach the reserve in approximately eighteen minutes. He decided to descend at five hundred feet per minute to bring him into local transponder range at a level of a thousand feet. This way he can fly faster and the same time keep an eye on known landmarks. The nose of the aircraft started to dip and Carr watched the clouds as he plunges through the fog to the deck. This is not a good way of descending for he cannot estimate how low the cloudbanks are- and a stupid mistake would bring him crashing into the ground. Further more are the thunder clouds gathering far to the right hand side of the bi-plane-and flashes appeared with intervals. Carr watched the altimeter as it slowly ticks the height down, hoping that the instrument is still accurately calibrated. This old lady needed a service badly- and in this fog God knows how many other unidentified objects are flying blind ready and waiting to flatten themselves and him against the landscape.

The dense fog lasted up to seven hundred feet, and Carr sighed in relief as he saw the landmarks appear in front of him. He could see the old railroad far to his left, and knows this area is mainly inhabited by Somali tribes which consist of approximately 14% of the population. This area between Wajir and Mera are scarcely populated and long flat tundra mark the landscape. Hot up -draughts from the grasslands made the plane bounce as if being driving on a gravel road. Carr descended to five hundred feet and turned back South- West towards Mera. As he added paddle, he closed the throttle a bit. Suddenly the engine sputtered, picked up and sputtered again. Carr let out a few of his well educated dictionary bar lingo and opened the throttle again to “Full”, but the old engine kept on sputtering. “ C’mon ye bloody old fart!” He grumbled. Carr decided to close the throttle again and open it fully again. No response came from the beleaguered engine. Finally it went silent. “ You are the most bloody ignorant old bitch today” he exclaimed in total disgust.

Carr closed the throttle to half power and turned the ignition. The only sound was the starter motor whining. Again and again he tried-with no results. The damn solenoid refuses to kick into the starter. “ Oh damn…. Here we go again. Why the hell decide on this shit today of all days?” He peered down to the trees and grass as it flashed by and realized that a crash landing was his imminent practice for today. He tried the ignition again, but the only sound was the wind passing the leading edges of the wings. The altimeter already was down to 270 feet, and ticking fast now. The nose of the craft keep on dipping, and Carr had a struggle on his hands to keep the plane on a steady and level gliding path, and at the same time try to keep his airspeed above 120 kilometers per hour as not to drop like a stone. Luckily the plane was a high wing, and could glide for quite a while if there were no sudden crosswinds. He should land with relative safety if he could keep a good gliding path and find a clear spot in these God forsaken flats.” Dammit…If the pelicans can do it-so can I” he muttered softly between the sweat on his lips. He grabbed the transmitter and turned the knob to the international emergency frequency:” Echo Alpha Kilo…I repeat Echo Alpha Kilo…Mayday…Mayday…. Mayday!!!” There was silence for a while, then a voice replied:” Echo Alpha Kilo…what is your position…please repeat your position and emergency…” Carr sweared silently. He now had to concentrate on the slope of descend and needed both his hands free to control the level of the craft and the trim of the yaw lever.

With one hand he grabbed the yoke and as quick as possible grabbed the microphone:” About twenty miles from Mera… I repeat… about twenty miles North-East of Mera en route to Nanyuki… I have engine failure…I’m going down!!!” Again he had to drop the microphone to grab the yaw lever, for the craft was drifting again. He yanked the control column backwards to pull the nose up out of a dive. The plane’s flaps responded very sluggish, and Carr fought the controls to maintain a level path, trying to keep the flaps on 25 degrees for a straight landing.. The intercom crackled again:” Echo Alpha Kilo- would you be so kind as to report your precise point of impact after you crash-landed for rescue or media purposes?” the voice continues with a chuckle. Carr looked at the intercom.” Damn sarcastic arse hole…the cheeky blighter. Who the hell said the radio will even be functioning after the crash?” He can see the bugger on the other side laughing his head off at the idea of him, the great and only Carr Hardley going for a smack. “Wait ‘till he gets back to Nanyuki- he will give that little bastard something to yip-yip about. They have no respect for a human in distress”. The altimeter now danced past eighty feet. Carr feverishly looked for an open area to put the plane down, but all he can see is grass. Carr do not like landing in the tall grass, for it may hide obstacles and boulders. One bang into one of those buggers could create irreversible damage to the belly of the plane.

As the plane keeps on descending fast now, swerving in the current, Carr prepares himself for the ultimate bump of his life. He fastened his safety harness for the first time in his life. With one hand he wipes off all the rubbish on the dashboard that may create injury on impact, and removed his sunglasses and pen. Another first was the way he tried to pray” Our Father which art in heaven…hallowed be thy name…thy kingdom come…as it is in heaven…oohhh helll…” - Carr never got to complete the sentence-not that he would know the prayer, for suddenly he knew that the next minute or so it will not be done on earth this time as it is in heaven, for the little plane suddenly lost height and dived at a 30 degree angle straight into the tall savanna grass. The plane struck the grass nose first, then bounced, and again, and then head over heels onto it’s back and then ploughed sideways for about forty yards before it came to a spinning standstill in a muddy pool. The last thing Carr remembered was his brown mongrel that tumbled in disarray past him towards the back of the plane with one hell of a howl.

5. SLAUGHTERED

CHAPTER 3

Mon Signor John McNally studied the attendance register in front of him. The old fan in his office behind the small Roman Catholic Church lazily turns from side to side, creating more than a nuisance than anything else. Every now and then a document is flung into the air. The air is hot and humid inside the tiny office. Flies are buzzing around the table. Flypaper hangs in strips attached to the roof. Pearls of sweat runs down his temples. What makes it even worse is the garb he is wearing. He conducted mass this morning. The attendance was poor as usual due to the escalating violence and intimidation. He counted the contribution this morning- only eighteen shillings.

He realizes that the people of Garissa are very poor, but the church somehow must make ends meet. He contacted the Cardinal at Bura, around a hundred kilometers south of Garissa last week for supplies, and was promised that the cardinal will see what he can do, but do not expect any quick solution. Goods are sent by ship to the port of Lamu on the Indian Ocean side of Kenya, and sometimes it takes days to offload and then hundreds of useless documentation later maybe dispatched to Bura. A local courier at Garissa does the trip once a week to collect the goods. Now, with this war going on, all logistical support went down the drain. He will be lucky if he receives anything. Bands of Mau-Mau guerillas swoop on the proviant as soon as it is downloaded. Inside collaborators inform the Mau-Mau fighters as soon as food or for that matter anything useful arrives by ship. Everybody tries to survive and make a shilling. Corruption and lawlessness plays a major role.

The British are on the verge of withdrawing and the Mau-Mau on the verge of throwing them out. Thus there are no law and order. On the religious side are the Mau-Mau intimidating the locals to turn away from the Christian faith and return to their tribal roots. Things are turning for the worst and John wonders when he will receive the order to close down the church. Their are no logistical support, no money and the food available are this being received from the few locals that contribute to the church if they have no money. A small garden upheld by the helpers of the congregation adds to the rest of the provisions. Luxuries like sugar, bread, tea and so on are as scarce as the teeth of a chicken, and must be done without. It becomes a struggle to survive, not even to mention the spreading of the good Word. Nobody’s interested in attending church when they have nothing to give, being intimidated, and have better things to do than sitting in a church for three hours. John shook his head silently. He wanted to work for the Lord, and gave his life to serve the church- but sometimes even he is torn between the dream and reality. He loves this country-big, spacious and full of plenty. There is enough for everybody. Why the senseless war and stupid politics? He stood up.”Oh dear Lord…be merciful to your servant…I am giving up hope”.

It is just past eleven, and the morning sun is penetrating the zinc roof with intensity when Monsignor McNally opened the door of his office. The sun temporarily blinded him as he strolled outside in the courtyard. He is alone this morning. Sister Agnes went to a local settlement to do visits to the locals. This way they are more or less in touch with the political updates. She is a good woman. A couple of years younger than himself, but very involved in her congregation she was. She was already here when he arrived a year or so ago from the United Kingdom. She taught him all the basics he need to know, the local dialect, ways and tribal chiefs, and the area as a whole.. Hardworking and dedicated as she is, sometimes even she cannot cope with the daily strains of the war. Many a time he caught her crying. But then again, she realizes her task as missionary and starts all over again the next day. He wondered why she ever became a nun. Her family is rich-dad owes a big business- and there was no need to become a nun in a place like this. She chose poverty above wealth. Sometimes he feels a strong urge to take her into his arms and kiss her, but he knows better. She might just react the opposite way. He must act professional at all times. If she needs love and want him- they can maybe think of a solution. God surely have strange ways of doing things. He slowly strolled towards the riverbank. Everything smells so fresh this morning.

The Tana River flows quite strong this morning after the recent rains, and the current uprooted some dead vegetation. He wonders where the two Swahili staff members are this morning. He did not see them since the day before yesterday. An uneasy feeling crept up his collar. One thing he learned quickly was that when an attack is expected, the local tribes folk suddenly vanishes. In other occasions the people around here always warned them if the Mau-Mau are coming. They would then get into the old Vauxhall and go to someplace safe. Can it be that another attack is to take place? Did his staff run away? Did they stay away on purpose? These questions mauled through his head. Sister Agnes…is she safe? In this situation you cannot trust anybody. In times like this even your closest friend can become your worst enemy. John was born and bred in the town of Dumfries in northern region of England. They lived in a cottage on the edge of the river Nith, about 33 miles northwest of Carlisle. As the only son of a Roman Catholic priest, he was morally compelled to do service as an altar boy at the St. Michaels church. Later on he applied and with the connotation of his father, became a priest himself. He applied for a congregation in any third world country, and was subsequently appointed to a congregation in Nairobi, but later redirected to Garissa under the control of Cardinal Dempsey, an old clergyman at Bura.

John was an attractive man for his 33 years. Six foot seven in his shoes with a dark complexion. His face was strong with an aristocratic nose. His body was muscled and he looked more like an athlete than a priest. He was a man of peace and would not easily revert to violence. He loved opera music, especially Schubert, and wanted to compose his own music, but the money never was available for luxurious commodities. Somehow he made peace with his ordeal by ending up here. He looked around. He became more and more restless. Something just is not right. Even the birds are quiet, and that is strange. Normally something is making a noise somewhere. Slowly, cautiously he walk along the edge of the riverbank towards the peer a couple of meters away. The grass slashed across his robe. Something warns him of immediate danger. He tried to concentrate, but he experience tenseness in his body. The edge slowly turns past an overhang and he had to make a detour past a bamboo thicket. Shadows fall on him as he entered the bushes. As he entered the thickets, he did not see or hear the figure as it slowly rose from the grass, nor the soft sound as the panga sliced through the air and struck him in the back of his neck. He suddenly felt a strange blow at the back of his head, and a sudden nausea came all over him. The world as he knows it started to dance before his eyes and a terrible headache sets in. Everything became misty and then Mon Signor John McNally knew no more.

His body slumped to the ground, moving slowly with convulsions, and then fell silent. Scarlet red blood colored the green grass on the bank, slowly trickling in the crystal clear water down below, coloring it as it enters. The dark shadows of the lurking attackers quickly merged with the trees as they disappeared into the thickets. A couple of yards down the river, hidden between the bamboo thickets, the flies and maggots are having a feast on the dismembered and emboweled corpses of Kakanui and Sempe, the two missing servants of the church.

Sister Agnes wiped her hands with her apron. She just fed a little baby girl some sour porridge- or Mahewu as it is being called. How a person can eat that type of brew amazes her. Apparently the local folk loves it and are taught to eat this from tender age. It is made from corn that is being cooked and mixed with all kinds of local additives to create a type of porridge with sour milk. This routine befalls her every week. She loves the locals and sees it her duty to assist them in educating them on personal hygiene. Sister Agnes knew almost every living soul in this area. They knew her and trust her. Even opposing factions allow her to move freely between the tribal borders without harm. This morning she visited her friend Dumisa. Together they made a tour to all the huts, giving advice, helping old ones, sick ones, feeding babies and have chitchat to strengthen ties. They must keep the confidence of the people to ensure a congregation and put the trust into the weak and elderly. This war has cost so many lives already, and still there seems no end. The people around here seem to live in another era. No TV, radio, stoves or any modernization entered their world. It is as if you took a step back into history. It is possible that some of them do not even know there are other people on other places. Some of the elders were born in this same village ages ago.

The majority also is illiterate. This reasons why so many of them were caught unaware with the sudden change in politics, modern guns, slogans etc. The children see this climate as a chance to earn money and a living, and subsequently join one or the other fighting faction to loot and kill. The elders just stay at home and do not even know what is happening. The world is moving too fast for them. Was it not for people like her and Dumisa- some elders would be left to starve in their beds. She walks up to the Vauxhall and took a cigarette from the packet on the dashboard. She only smokes when she traveled alone. She is well educated, and a playful girl. She believes that every human being has the right to decide his or her own destiny. Her mother always wanted her to become a successful career woman, a model even. With her 5ft 7 in and slender body she was a beauty queen. Full lips and somewhat broad thorax with a size 38 chest. She had long slender legs with perfect feet. Her long black hair drabbed in the middle of her back. Big brown eyes that always are laughing.

At the age of 28 she was in the prime of her youth- never had sex and only had the occasional boyfriend or two. Since she came here three years ago, she totally forgot about males…. until John arrived. She would never even think of smoking in the presence of Monsignor John. Since he arrived, she had to change some of her habits like nude swimming, smoking, and having a beer or nightcap and the occasional swearing. She had to start acting like a nun and lady- for his and her own sake. She sees herself as being a bit of a wildcard, a free person. She does her job and asks nobody to care for her. Her mother always said she is a bit of a Tomboy. She never approved of wearing a dress- too uncomfortable for her liking. She hides her cigarettes inside the bumper of the Vauxhall, and sees to it that she stays far away from John for at least one hour after smoking. Nobody that matter knew she is smoking.

The tribes’ people think nothing of it for in their tradition a woman that smokes a pipe is normal. They even offered her a pipe or two, but she refrained from smoking the strong type of tobacco they do. Sometimes if the tobacco is scarce, they mix tobacco with elephant dung. This the reason why some of them will tranquilize you with his or her breath. She started to smoke when her nerves finally gave in about nine months ago. She needed the tobacco to calm her nerves, now she can’t do without. It is a long time now since she changed her nun’s robe for khaki shorts and t-shirt outfit. Clearly the clergy who decided upon the original nun’s garment did not foresee staff working in the equatorial regions. She has had enough of looking like a stuffed penguin. Her companion and friend Dumisa- a Turkanna girl- walked up to her. She were educated in English by Agnes, but still cannot speak the lingo correctly.” You leaving now?” she asked Agnes.”Yeah….I still must go and pick up goods from Ahmed’s store that Mon Signor wants.”

Dumisa leaned next to her against the car.” Why do you and Mon Signor not marry?” she questioned in broken English. Agnes stared at her in disbelief.” Are you nuts? Me marrying that prim and proper mister clergyman. O my goodness no! I don’t want to spend the rest of my life on my knees cleaning the church. Besides, the church would never allow it. “ She giggles like a schoolgirl.” Imagine me and him standing at the pulpit. Mister Clergy husband and Missus Nunny wife! We want to build a congregation, not create our own for goodness sake Dumisa. Who is going to marry us…. your witchdoctor?”

Dumisa seemed quite ernest.”No..You ask the big man in Bura to do that. I will bring flowers and nice presents” Agnes burst into laugher.” What!! You must be mad. That old has been Cardinal will catch a fit if he so much as even remotely find out of such an relationship developing right under his nose, Oh my my…I can see it..” Still laughing she turns for the door of the car.” Dumisa, thanks for the nice thought…but I am not ready yet to be committed” Dumisa looked at her.” You very lonely now for long time…you like Mon Signor.. yes?” Agnes climb into the car and turned the ignition.” Dumisa,..yes …I like Mon Signor,……but that is not enough to ask him to marry me…” Dumisa suddenly got a glint in the eye.” Why not make children first and marry later like we do. Maybe when you have children you will love Mon Signor enough to marry …yes?” Agnes bubble into laughter. “Dumisa, you know we cannot do that. The church will not approve that. I am a nun and he a Mon Signor, and it is not allowed as Roman Catholics. We must first resign our positions, then marry…and then have babies…not the other way around” Dumisa shook her head.” You have funny church. You love man…you marry man. You have children with man…. not with church!” Agnes tapped Dumisa on the side.” Yeah…maybe you’re right I suppose…see you”

The road from the village to Garissa was bumpy and muddy, but the old Vauxhall was a robust car with endurance. Agnes is used to these roads, and knows every turn, pothole and stone in this road. So many times did she drove the fifteen odd kilometers to the village, she could drive blindfolded for that matter. She thought of what Dumisa said. She knew Dumisa struck the nail on the top. She developed a strong feeling towards her co-worker. He is the silent friendly type who will not force him on her. He is soft spoken with real gentle manners. O how she wishes that he occasionally would try to embrace her. She is so lonely. Sometimes she wants to talk to him about it, but then again he is so polite. Maybe he has a sweetheart somewhere…everybody does…except her! Some nights she watched him sitting on the bench outside the living quarters where he relaxes every evening after supper. He usually is then dressed in shorts with no shirt. Sometimes she could see him taking a shower through the open window. Her blood always wants to boil at the sight. She only wants one night together…she does not ask much. After all…although she is a nun…she is still a woman, and every woman has desires, nun or no nun! Nobody ever visits them at night. It is like a chess game…. he moves…she move…he moves… and so on. It is as if she could feel that he also wants to be with her, touch her, needs her, but as with her, too scared to go for the moment. Her female intuition tells her that they are sharing the same feelings.

Both of them are stranded in this lonely part of the world, trapped within their own emotions. Both want each other. Both are too scared. What could happen if they decided to go for it? Nobody would know…except for God. Is it so wrong when a man and a woman love each other? Why can’t they touch each other…stroking each other’s body…press against each other…kissing each other’s bodies? Why can’t they fall in love with each other…. get married…have children like normal people? Why does the church keep them apart? She knows she is married to the church, but that is in spirit…. not in flesh. She cannot see any reason why they cannot keep on working for the Lord after marriage. Other religions do it. So many unanswered questions. Somehow she must try to touch the subject one evening…. maybe tonight. If she once again must see him getting undressed…or smell his manly odor in the bathroom…she will go berserk. Maybe tonight will be the proper moment. She doesn’t care if he will reject her. She has been alone for so long, and if been rejected…so what…it’s worth a try! Suddenly she felt like a little schoolgirl about to experience her first date. Why did Dumisa have to touch this subject today? All of a sudden the road ahead seems so very long.

6. ECSTASY

The old Vauxhall drove slowly down the shadows of the Oak lane towards the church. Agnes feels exhausted. Her feet ache. Her neck hurts. Her body feels tense. She enters the huge churchyard and stops the car under the shade of the big old Oak tree about 70 meters from the courtyard.. Not a soul in sight. Her eyes scanned the church and surroundings. Everything is so quiet. Now all she wants to do is to take a cold shower and get something to eat and drink.

She leans back on the headrest and throws her long brown hair over the headrest. She put her hands behind her head and stared at the roof of the car. Lazily she stretched her slender sun tanned body to it’s full extend and produce a long yawn. She suddenly feels hunger and thirsty. She will tell Mon Signor she is taking the day off to relax. When was the last time that she relaxed with a good book? She can’t even remember. She can’t even remember when was the last time she relaxed at all! It would be fabulous just to lie naked on the bed with John with the fan cooling their exposed bodies. She wants to be well rested if something might envelope tonight. She smiled She doesn’t want to fall asleep in a special moment.

If something happens tonight, she wants it to be special, and it must continue until the morning sun eventually touch their exhausted naked bodies next to each other through the window. Naked bodies!!!…she pampers the idea for a moment…visualizing the picture, his body warm against her’s…. him stroking and pressing her breasts, touching her neck with his mouth…her vagina touching his erected manhood and stroking his pubic hair…. him slowly opening her legs and touching her sexual organ…her pulling up her legs as far as possible…she taking his penis inside her mouth deep and caressing the shaft with her tongue… him entering her slowly with his fingers and forcing her vagina open to the limit, penetrating her as deep as possible, licking her clitoris with his tongue and then introducing his penis to the mouth of her vagina. She can already see his wet glittering penis head slowly parting her inner lips and entering her hungry passage, the shaft sliding into her body, deeper and deeper until his pubic hair entangle with hers, until it rammed to a standstill against her womanhood.. She can feel his size sliding through her channel, moving with a rhythm of passion in and out of her passage, filling her inside with his head of the penis, going deeper until it touches her deepest point, whilst his hard shaft sliding into her narrow passage, stroking and filling her inflated wands..

She suddenly noted her body is reacting to her thoughts and now is getting aroused by her imagination, an experience she never had for ages since arriving here. She can feel the T-shirt rubbing against her now partial erected nipples. It hurts as the T-shirt touches the tender points. She is on the brink of arousal. She can feel her breasts growing bigger and bigger every second. She stared in amazement at the size of her breasts. She never before noticed their actual erected size. Her breathing is starting to excel, and her torso are rapidly moving up and down.. She can feel her clitoris starting to rise as the blood pumps into it and her glands starting to swell, preparing herself for intercourse. Her legs automatically opens and closed with a rhythm as if they are caressing her womanhood. Her fingers dug into the headrest without her consent. A slow numbness mixed with a faint pain now starts to spread like a hot fire inside her secret chamber. She experience small tingling sensations inside her stomach, feeling little contractions of her uterus. She realizes her body is for so long overdue for sex and fulfillment.

She hadn’t had a man near her for a long, long time, and just the idea of a naked man touching her brought a strong sense of active sexual arousal in her womanly organs. She stared at her breasts. They stood out like little White Mountains against her tanned body, with her nipples pointing upwards as if they are begging her to fulfillment. She curiously touches her breasts and nipples. They are stone hard and it hurts, and with every touch she lets out a soft gasp of pain whilst her sensitive button now also responds with quivers of excitement with the aching inside intensifying. Her torso is moving up and down with breathing in expectation of the emerging excitement. The muscles inside her belly are becoming tensed as her uterus contracts more every time. Suddenly she feels a strong urge to be satisfied. She knows she must satisfy her body now; the excitement is too great, but how and where? She pondered for a moment, and then a wry smile appears on her full lips as the idea shot into her mind. “ O, boy. This is going to be good”

She quickly sat up and started the car again, then reverses it deep into the shadow where it is obscured to preying eyes and shut it down. She canvasses the area again to make sure she is alone. Today is the day that she wants to throw all common sense out the window and go to the extremes of self-satisfaction. She never did this before, but instinctively knows nature will lend a hand in the proceedings. The idea of doing it in the open at Mother Nature’s front door is so exiting. She pulled the lever to drop the back part of her seat and lie down in a relaxant position. She can hardly wait to get started. Somehow she feels a bit tensed at the idea. She then decided that it is now or never. Other women does it- so why not her? She wants to explore her anatomy in full, every bit of it. Her womanly side must be brought to the front in full. She wants to feel the extreme orgasm as it explodes inside her, all the months of slumbering oppression must be set free in one big moment of ecstasy. Tonight, if she gets to make love with John, it must be soft and tender. She doesn’t want to set the animal inside her loose on him. He might be frightened. Thus the reason why every urge and instinct must be satisfied now and here. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, or how many times she will have to do it, or for that matter what she will have to do, she only wants her body to be totally satisfied when she is finished here. She will move slowly to work herself up to the peak, and not rush things. Her body must adjust to the new feelings. She slowly kicked off her shoes and socks, and then took a deep breath.

Slowly with a smile of satisfaction she opened her legs as wide as possible, resting them against the sides of the consul to get more space between her legs. She wonders what to do next as she looked down to the space between her legs. The saw the lines of her vaginal cleft are etched into the contours of her pants. She starts by stroking her belly in circles. Her muscles react with short spasms. She feels her fanny reacting the same way. She then inserts her fingers deep into her mouth and moves her left hand underneath her T- shirt, softly scratching her stomach with her nails. With her index finger she then moves upwards and slowly started to rub her naked right hand side erect nipple in small circles. She can feel her breasts stiffening and nipples growing larger. The spasms below now are reacting spasmodically with regular intervals. Her up heaved breasts are feeling so warm and tender. Her right hand then slowly moved down to her pants and she started to rub her pants above her trigger softly and elegantly up and down with her middle finger along the lines of her cleft without moving her body.

7. EN ROUTE

CHAPTER 4

It was around 11.30 when thunderous clouds gathered for their second meeting high above the plains and jungles of Kenya. On the eastern escarpment the dark shapes appeared in a rolling mass of water, thunder and lightning. The sun disappeared as quickly as it appeared; the sky became an ominous gray color. Gusts of wind shook the branches of trees and the grass in the savannas bend down as if they were obeying the power of the oncoming storm. Lightning flashed in all directions from within the rolling masses. When monsoon is in full swing in this part of the world, it can sometimes last for days on end. All across the savannas the lightning danced and played their orchestral maneuvers in the darkening sky.

In the thickets of the dense jungle below, the convoy stammers on with at a snails pace. The earth is soggy and damp of the previous night’s storm. Drops of water are still noticeable on the leafs of the foyer. The flaps on the trucks are bulging as the wind forced itself through the openings. The air becomes hot and humid. Inside the cabin of the second truck Lawrey reached for the mug of coffee Mina offered him. Gasoline fumes hung in the cabin. The mighty engine roared each time a wheel struck an obstacle in the narrow gravel road. The massive vehicle shook and bumped as it clawed its way through the muddy banks. Lawrey took a sip of the black coffee.” God knows why we had to move on a time like this” he murmled. “ I don’t think we will make it to Kisumu on time. Those clouds are looking mighty dangerous up there. I think we should stop and sit it out” Mina looked at him in disgust. “ Are you mad? This could last for hours…even days! There’s no way I am going to sit here in this pesky flytrap with God knows how many Mau Maus around.” Lawrey snorted.” An’ how the hell do you think we are going to get through this muck when that storm breaks loose, madam hard ass? This bloody thing’s wipers don’t even work properly. An’ what about the cars? They will get shit out of the deal. Ye wanna do some pushing in that kind of rain…or are we gonna sit like a stone pussy and wait for the men to do the honours?”he retorted agitated.

Mina crossed her arms. She stared straight in front of her.” This man really is an arsehole. It was his stupid idea in the first place to start this trek to day. He should have known it would be like this. Dammit, he is supposed to be used to the climate, and should have known better, but no, the little bugger still has shit for brains and a will to match it. He always bragged about his fantastic product down below, but in the mean time everybody else noticed the useless sales department on top”. Lawrey pondered in silence.” I would like to slap the shits out of this little bitch. From the day I met her mom she was always jealous. Never could leave mamma’s pants. Always tried to wriggle in between us. Rather than trying to get a husband, she will sit at home and irritate the shits out of me. On the other hand, no decent man in his right mind would want a little cow like this…. useless little bastard!!!” He opened the side window and chuck the remainder of the coffee on the road.” To hell with this…” and he threw the mug on the floor at Mina’s feet. She looked at it for a moment.” You know, you really think you are a great man…. don’t you? Let me tell you something…you don’t care a damn about anybody else. So long everybody else agrees with the all mighty mister Lawry Brodie, the world’s honky dory…but as soon as somebody disagrees…then all hell brakes loose and little drummer boy throws his rattles out of the cot. I am sick and tired of listening to your forever lasting self-praises and how lucky my mother was to have met you! You are nothing but an over spoiled self-centered modern bum. All you ever wanted to do is to eat, drink and screw my mother for her money!”

Lawrey stared at her in disbelief. For a moment silence reigned.” Fuck-you, you little shithole. I did my share on the farm to bring in the earnings. At least I am not the one traveling every week for three days at a time to Nakuru to go and get screwed in the local hotel instead of getting a work. Talking about fucking…you are the one that cannot stay off your lousy back. That is why you do not wear panties…you don’t need the shit. Don’t you think for a moment that I do not know about that little Hein shit that stays over there? You have fucked more men in one year than I have screwed woman in a lifetime… your fuckhole has seen more cocks coming in and out of it than the station at Nairobi has seen trains passing…. so don’t you come and play misses holy damn Mary with me, you little pisshead!!!” Mina turned towards him.” At least I was fucked by men with dignity…and not by dirty dumb fuckers like you, you example of a bag of dog spawn!!” Lawrey nearly blew his top.” Fuck you, you little crazy bitch. Go and pull the pussy of a cow over your head so-that the bulls can fuck some sense into your brains!!!Who the hell do you think you are? Dammit…I was already in uniform when you were still in liquid form. If you don’t like the companionship, then get the fuck out of the truck…go on…hitch a ride with a gorilla or something…. my god…” Mina just stared out of her window.” One of these days she is going to kick his little useless nuts out of proportion and hang them to dry for all to see that as with his head, there was fuck all inside…the arrogant little rubbish!!”

Baus arched his back to stretch it a bit. He looked at Len. “ Seems like old Laurie and Mina is at it again” and pointed at the truck in front where they can see the two figures obviously scowling and fighting. Len took a sip of his brandy.” Yip mate…that is what keeps those two out of mischief. So long they fight each other…. we don’t get bothered. Flippen good idea to chuck them together in one truck for three thousand miles. Now they have enough time to sort each other out… must give old Frank a slap on the back.” And with a laconical chuckle he shook his head. Baus smiled wryly.” Ya…just like Frank…thinking on his feet” The jungle is now getting denser and the sky is pitch-black. The rolling clouds are about on top of the convoy. Heavy drops of rain started to crash down through the roof onto the metallic bodies of the vehicles. Frank decided that they’ll have to stop, for there will not be any vision in a matter of moments when the oceans of heaven opens. He signaled to the rest and pulled into a clearing beneath huge trees. He switched off his engine and waved the rest to follow suite. One by one the vehicles pull in behind him and shut down their engines.

For about twenty minutes they sat like that when all of a sudden the rain came pouring down like a river from above. The sound of raindrops hammering on the tin roofs of the vehicles is deafening. A white blanket of water engulfed the surroundings whilst strong gushes of wind shook the trees and vehicles alike. Baus watched a bewildered antelope appear briefly from the thickets, just to disappear as quickly. He loves nature. He has been hunting lion and buffalo for almost eighteen years now. He never shoots for trophies, only for the pot. He’s eyesight in the jungle is trained to perfection. The color of his eyes nearly matched those of his prey, a yellow with black cornea. Nothing escapes the quick eye of this bushman, no deer, buffalo, bird, not even the slight movement a hundred or so meters away from the convoy as the black hand moved the bamboo loots aside carefully to get a better view of the trucks. Baus silently grabbed Len’s knee and pointed in the direction, whilst picking up the Lee Medford. 303 from underneath the seat. Len automatically drew his German Luger from its holster.” Ye see the buggers…?” Baus asked in a low tone. Len shook his head in acknowledgment.” What do we do…?” Baus cocked the bolt of his rifle.” Wait for them to show themselves. There is no time to warn the others. Be ready, if I say NOW- you jump out and start to shoot the shits out of them. We must give the others time to get to their rifles”

Jima sat in silence as he peered between the bamboo and tall grass at the parked vehicles under the trees. His eyes are filled with hatred as he silently stared at the white people inside the trucks. The rain is pouring on his back, streaming down his painted face, but he knew that the best time for attack is when it rains hard and the eyesight obscured. This is the moment the white dogs would not expect an onslaught. So many times he and his companions raided farms and cleared areas of this hated white people, but still they do not learn. They clinged to their possessions, even if they had to die for it. Jima clutched the sharp panga in his fist. This old friend of his had tasted so many times the flesh of the white rubbish. They came uninvited to his beloved country and raped it, proclaiming all land for themselves. After they took everything from the black man, they still had the audacity to offer the black man a job, on his own land, at a meager salary. Jima had grown up in a village where he was the proud descendant of a proud ancestry of warriors, and that blood is today still flowing strong in his veins.

He is no slave to nobody, especially to no white thief! He will rid the whole Kenya of all these infidels and their spawn. He slowly lifted his right hand and signaled to two of his warriors to encircle the convoy from the right. He produced three fingers low on the ground and indicated to three of his warriors to move around the trucks and lie in wait behind the last truck. He and the other warriors will stay here and create a diversion to focus the attention of the white men on them. The other warriors can then sneak up behind the vehicles and launch an attack from the rear. A surprise attack always ensures a victory. Always catch your enemy when he is at his weakest…not suspecting an attack, unprepared. He nearly thought they were exposed and the game is up when that antelope blundered onto them from nowhere and out of shock headed straight for the trucks. He hastily waved his warriors to lie down flat in the grass. Luckily the deer changed course when it saw the trucks and swerved to the left. He waited a bit to make sure all is well, but luckily the white dogs are ignorant and did not even bother to investigate. They will now pay for their arrogance!

He followed his warriors with his eyes as they move stealthy away towards their appointed positions. Tonight he will be a hero when he presents his chief with all this loot and vehicles. They will sing songs and praises about him while they eat and dance around the campfires and Nandi will have beautiful jewelry to wear. He can feel the excitement shook his body as he clenched the panga and spear. There should be plenty of guns to claim also. Oh, what a position he will have in the local Mau Mau hierargy when he shows them his spoils. They will use the white dogs own guns to kill them. They are so stupid. They even supply the local rebels with firepower to execute themselves. It is so easy to obtain a white man’s gun…sometimes they are just lying around…begging to be stolen! They leave their homes unguarded, wires and children alone, doors open at night, cattle unprotected…he does not understand the ways and logic of the white man, but so long they keep on acting stupid, he, Jima, will keep on getting rich and famous. With an evil smile on his face he shook his head. Today these ignorant dogs will feel the wrath of a great warrior for their mistake to set foot on sacred black land…they will feel the sharp edge of their pangas against their necks as their stupid heads are severed from their lousy bodies. He waited patiently as his warriors took position around and behind their target

8. SURVIVAL

The sun basked hard and merciless on the cabin of the plane, as it lies toppled like a huge insect in the shallow water. Inside the cabin there is a little movement. Carr is still dazed by the sudden knock he took on his forehead. He can feel a wetness slapping his face and he realized his old friend Rusty must be alive as well as he licked Carr on his cheek. He hung partially upside down with the safety harness cutting deep into his collarbone. He can feel the sticky blood on the side of his temple, and wondered if he has been injured badly. Slowly he manages to free his right hand and placed it on the source of the blood. He felt a cut across his forehead into his hairline. He must have slammed his head onto the steering column with the impact. He reached for his side and took his hunting knife out of its shed. Painfully he saw through the harness and slumped in a heap onto the roof of the plane. He lied there for a moment and tried to focus his eyes. All around him he observed chaos in the cabin. Papers are strewn all around the place and objects are lying in disorder inside the plane. Windows are broken and Carr saw the windscreen wiper sticking inside the opening where the windshield was supposed to be. Gasoline fumes burned into his eyes and he could hear the dripping sound of fluid. He knows that it is a ruptured pipe or tank, and the possibility of a fire or explosion is great. He will have to clear this area as soon as possible; otherwise he will act as some kind of delicious roasted meal to something or somebody if he does not act fast.

Slowly he lifted himself onto one arm. His side hurts like hell. He moved his shoulders and neck. Nothing broken up there. He then moved his hips and legs. All seem to be in order, at least for the moment. He looked around for anything important. The only thing he is going to need is his cigarettes, matches and beer. He searched for the items and decided he would need a chart, although he knows the area quite well from the air, on the ground it might be another story in total. He sat down and kicked hard against the door. It flung open and Carr appreciated the fresh, although humid air that greeted him. He crawled out into the sunshine and muddy water. “ Thank God it is only a shallow pool” he thought as he struggled upright. He inspected his downed plane. Except for the vertical fin, windscreen, side windows and propeller, the old girl is still repairable. He wiped his forehead. He looked around him. No roads or any indication where he is, but according to his last observation he shouldn’t be more than twenty kilometers northeast from Mera. All he has to do is to proceed in a southwesterly direction. He lit up a cigarette and cracked a beer. After a few long gulps he started to walk south-southwest. Rusty ran up front and chased a few bewildered geese out of the pond. Carr can feel the sweat running down his spine.

He plunges through the watery reeds towards dry ground, and his shoes sink into the mud with every stride. He hopes to reach Mera in the next two to three hours, that is to say if he does not meet any hungry carnivores along the way. Mera is a big place and he’ll have to walk down the eastern border right down until he is more or less straight across the settlement. From there he will have to dash like hell to reach safety before he meet up with any lion or leopard. If all goes well, he’ll be home and dry before four. From the base camp he will have to phone the police station at Kisumu and inform them to tell the convoy to stand fast for the night until he will be able to reach them. Luckily he gave Maseme, his bowzer driver, enough money to get a decent sleeping place and food. He wondered if other people also have to sit with unwanted problems, or do they live off the spoils of life and people like him only getting the indigestion.

Carr watched Rusty as he discovered a Meercat hole. Feverishly he dug into the earth where he picked up the scent of the animal. The dog disappeared between an ant heap and a freshly dug heap of earth. For a while there is silence, then it is broken by a commotion behind the ant heap. Carr whistled up the dog, but the only response he got was the ongoing commotion. He decided to inspect what was going on. As he approached the ant heap, Rusty flew out of the hole with an angry otter on his tail. Carr shook his head. “ Poor bastard…” he muttered. “ Should know better than to tackle an otter in a borough…” He watched as the animal retrieved back to its den and Rusty standing at a respectable distance, licking his snout. For the first time Carr now had the time to observe the area around him. The plains are actually much bigger from here than from the air. The mountain ranges are huge when studied in perspective. He lit up another cigarette and finished his beer. He’d better get a move on if he wants to make it in time. He slung the bag containing his beer over his right shoulder and picked up the pace towards the direction of Mera.

It was round about one o’clock when Carr decided to take a rest. He had been pushing hard for the last couple of dusty kilometers. The sun now is slowly fading away behind some clouds that are forming from the northwest. He can smell the scent of rain, and if he keeps quiet, he can hear the far off rumbling of the storm in progress. The wind also starts to pick-up, and Carr knew that it would be only a matter of time before the storm arrives. He looked over the peaks of the mountains and in the far off distance he can see the flashes of lightning in the direction of Nakuru. He better move on as fast as he can, or find some shelter. He doesn’t want to be caught in the open. Except for the unwanted cold he will be having afterward, he remembered a lot of folklore about numerous people being struck by lightning whilst being in the open. He swore softly. If a storm erupts around here in the next few hours or so, his plane would be overflowed by the rising water level, and that means possible other and more damage than this he had estimated. He wondered why he ever set his feet outside his home this morning. Should he have stayed at home; he would’ve saved himself a lot of trouble and unnecessary expenses. “O Lord…what a day…what a mess…what a buggerup…” he complained hard to himself as he started to walk again.

The earth around the vicinity Carr is walking in, are mostly tundra. The world is flat and big patches of savannah stretches for miles. The area is scarcely populated and there is no sense of direction. All Carr can do is to keep in the same direction and keep the mountain ranges to his right. That way he will more or less be going in the right direction. What Carr did not notice, was that he walked in a big semi circle to the left over an area of nine kilometers. He in fact was now turning in a westerly direction instead of southwest. He did not even take note of this fact, for Carr had downed his fifth beer due to thirst, and he was rapidly tiring. He did not take into calculation that his left foot was taking shorter strides than his right foot, and over a long distance this counts a lot for straight direction. Also a factor was the emerging dark cloud banks. Carr was hurrying his pace in an effort to reach some kind of shelter against the brooding storm. He now is stumbling over the grass and rocks, and once or twice staggered. He decided to make for a patch of thorn trees in a distance to his left. The trees looked broad and will at least give some type of protection against the rain. The sky now turned into an ominous dark blue and whirlwinds are dancing all over the grasslands. Carr can feel the wind pushing into his back. The collar of his shirt stood up straight. The air is warm and humid. Carr knew it would be only a matter of moments now. The trees are about a kilometer and a half in front of him. He intensifies his pace to reach the shelter in time.

He was about halfway when the first huge drops of water started to plunge into the dry dust. Moments later the heavens opened up and Carr was caught running like a jackrabbit in the middle of the tropical outburst. The rain lashed at his body with such ferocity that each drop felt as if it will penetrate his skin any moment. Carr ran for all he is worth to reach the trees. Just about hundred and fifty yards to go, but it felt like eternity when he at last ploughed against the trunk of one of the nearest trees. He leaned against the tree, gasping for air. His lungs burned like hell, and he is soaking wet. The rain poured down with intensity, and Carr can’t even see more than fifty yards ahead of him.” With this muck coming down, I suppose I only have to wait a bit and my plane will come floating by…at least then I will have transport” he murmured to nobody in particular. He took his packet of cigarettes from his pocket, but to his dismay only found that all the tobacco was also soaking wet.” Ohh GREAT……….what the hell next!!!!” he shouted in utter frustration towards the clouds. The next instant a lightning bolt struck a rock about a hundred or so yards away from his tree. Carr jumped into the air from the sudden shock:” Shitt…I didn’t mean that!” he shouted angrily.” Now even God are turning against me…what ne………no, no, forget it, I didn’t say that..” he protested wearily, waving his hands and sank to his hunches.

9. CHAPTER 6

The shadows created dark patches in the little yard in front of Agnes. She was lost in her own created fantasy for at least two hours; not realizing time had slipped by. Quickly she jumped up and pulled up her pants. She felled embarrassed, but not guilty. What she did released a lot of tension. She wiped the sweat off her breasts, forehead and sides. Numbed and tired she clambered out of the car and slowly walked towards the porch. All was quiet- no sign of John. A few times she called out his name, but only an eerie silence greeted her. Carefully she placed her handbag on the ground and turned towards the outside buildings. She searched fruitless amongst the outer buildings, then decided to have a look at the rivers edge. John sometimes had the manner of taking a stroll along the water’s edge to clear his mind of daily troubles. The trees cast their shadows on the footpath as she set off for the river about five hundred yards down the slope. The old trees appear ghostly around her as she slaloms along the little path to the river, where it ended into a wide opening

She lazily strolled down to the opening at the water’s edge. She can feel the spray of the river as it bashes against the rocks and carried by the breeze from a little higher up. Butterflies hung lazily onto wild flowers on the banks of the river. The soft mumbling sound from the stream as it passed the banks sounded so peaceful. It is a lot cooler under the shades and Agnes inhaled the fresh air. She stood there for a moment, peering across the water’s edge. This place is her type of world, peaceful, remote and intimate with nature. She watched the finches as they flutter upside down on their nests in the reeds. Her soul is one with nature, and it is times like this when a person can just sit down in the shadows and ease your mind, resetting your body’s biorhythms, and feel the closeness to your Creator. The current seems strong this morning, and all the mucky water was washed to the bottom end of the river. Nature’s fantastic in cleaning its own back yard. She bent forward to pick up a twig to throw it into the water. It was then that her eye caught something dark sticking out between the tall grasses at the side of the river. She stood up straight and stared at the object, but cannot define the dark patch.

Curiously she approaches the object. She was about seven feet from it when she recognized the form as the body of Mon Signor. A yell escaped from her lips as she dashed towards his still figure. As she came close to him, she noticed red fluid next to his head, and instinctively knew it was blood. She bend down and saw the gash behind his right ear. She started screaming in horror and took his head in her hands.” John!!! John!!…O my God…no…no…. John…not you as well…o no…. no..” She undressed and wiped his neck with her T-shirt and turned his body around. His eyes were closed. Then she saw that he was still breathing. She shook him by the shoulders. “ Wake up…wake up damn you…you cannot die on me…c’mon…. wake up!!” she sobs through the tears. A soft moan came from his lips. Another follows. His eyes fluttered for a moment, closed again, and slowly opened again.” What happened…where am I…what’s going on…?” he slowly whispered.” O thank God…thank God you’re still alive…somebody whacked and tried to kill you…. lie still…don’t move….I will get some bandages…..wait here…” she stammered and flew like a bullet over the tall grasses towards the buildings.

Within minutes Agnes was back with the First Aid sack and was attending to his wound.” Panga” she exclaimed.” Luckily it struck your thick collar and only a small gash was being cut behind your ear. No vital part or artery was ruptured. Your skull seems intact as well…. you’re lucky…. when did this happen…who did it?” she babbled on. John stared dazedly at her. He can’t remember anything, except for his aching head. He looked at her through the daze, and at first couldn’t believe what he sees”So”- he thought- “This is what heaven is all about” He smiled and shut his eyes, and then opened them again to make sure he is not in heaven yet. No, he must be awake and still on Terra Firma. Here she sat, right next to him, without an inch of clothing over her top. Her big white breasts are hanging so low over his face; he could actually touch her dark nipples with his nose. He could even smell her lovely womanly odor. He couldn’t decide whether he should point this out to her, or simply keep quiet and enjoy the view. He decided that it is a choice between moral and human nature.” Agnes…what size dress do wear on top…a 36 or 38?” he asked as polite as can be with a sly smile on his lips. She hesitated for a moment with the bandage.

Slowly she looked down at her naked breasts, and then realized she forgot to get dressed when she ran for the bandages. She wondered how it must have looked to him. or anybody who saw her for that matter…her running at full speed with her big boobs hopping up and down all the way to milky lane. Suddenly she blushed.” O my Lord…o no…you bastard!” she shrieked and grabbed her blood soaked T-shirt next to him.” I thought you were being hurt…. and all the time you were looking at a naked woman…be ashamed of yourself Mon Signor…” she retorted angrily in make belief while she flipped the shirt over her head. He smiled.” I must be ashamed…you are the one that is doing the advertising!” She stood upright.” No I was not…I simply used the shirt to stem the flow of the blood. Anyway…. you seem fine now…you can walk for yourself now…if you can stare…. you can move I suppose...” And she turned stiffly towards the church.” See you up there…and don’t get whacked again please…we have no congregation for the funeral…” She smiled as she walked up the little road. It worked better than she thought. It may as well took a panga to hammer some sense into his thick skull, but she saw the yearning in his eyes. Luckily he was still alive. God surely worked in strange ways. Happily she took a flower from its stem, turns it in front of her lips whilst singing softly “ tonight you’re mine…so easily…. tonight we’ll be together…so closely…tonight..”

John sat up. His head felt as if a sledgehammer was pounding against his skull. His cloth is smeared with his own blood. He looked down…not much on the grass. He did not loose too much blood. Where did the assailant come from? Who was it…someone he knows…or a member of the congregation…a stranger maybe? He slowly stood up. To try and find the perpetrator would be useless, for these type of attackers are cowards and just strike and disappear…it was their method. It was the first time the church or its members was attacked. He touched the cut behind his ear. It hurts when he touches it, but nothing serious it seems.. He started to walk towards the church. For the first time in his life he was actually looking at a woman. This disturbed him a bit. He is a man of the cloth and must act as such. What would the congregation say, his parents, the church! He pondered for a moment. Never in his life before did he see a naked woman…not even mentioning at such a close range. He felt a strange sensation coming over him.” What the dickens are wrong with you, John my lad? Why did this happen? Why her? Was it done on purpose…or by accident…is it destiny…or fate?” He shook his head…either way…he got his wake up call for the day in both ways.

Still clinging his neck, he wandered gingerly towards the upper buildings to get some rest from his ordeal. He can see Agnes as she walked into the courtyard. He followed her body movements as she turned to the door of the building. He studied her tight thighs and voluptuous breasts. He cannot help to feel the urge to take her into his arms. She felt so warm against him, and he could smell her breath in his nostrils. He really wanted to stroke her breast as it was hanging in front of him, but common sense prevailed. He could feel his hormones kicking in, and the man inside him came to life for the first time. It is a good thing he was wearing the long garment, otherwise she would’ve notice the bulge in his pants. Wouldn’t that be a laugh! He entered the door on the verandah and waited a moment for his eyes to get used to the darkness. Agnes was nowhere to be seen. He entered and walked towards his bedroom. It was just passed three in the afternoon. The trees started to throw long shadows as the day progressed, and the lounge was gloomy. He stopped at the bathroom and decided to clean his wound and dress it. The bathroom door is open and he entered the room. The next moment he stopped abruptly. To his amazement Agnes was sitting in the bathtub with water running into it. He stared at her naked body and all his muscles went numb.

Agnes just looked at him nonchalantly and smiled. John felt his heart throbbing in his throat. Suppressed excitement built in him and he tried to speak, but found that he was at loss for words. He gaped at the scenery and tried to speak, but only a hoarse sound blurted over his dry lips. He cleaned his throat.” Sorry…I….I…..I didn’t know…” and forced himself to tear his eyes from this unbelievable beautiful body in front of him. Agnes laughed teasingly. This is it!” John…. do not try to suppress your feelings. You want my body…. and I want yours, so why pretend…. let’s do it. Nobody will know anybody’s here. C’mon…get undressed and join me…. I want it to be this way…. please!” John gulped, and gulped again. He must be hearing things. This he dreamed about for months became reality. He had to pinch himself to make sure he’s not hallucinating. He then slowly, as in a trance, started to undo his robe. He loosened his shirt and dropped his pants. He sat on the toilet and discarded his socks and shoes. Not for a moment did he take his eyes off the perfection of her curves. He stood up and dropped his underwear. He looked at his anatomy and suddenly felt like a fool. He didn’t know what to do; he just stood there with his penis erect like a naughty schoolboy. He can feel her eyes inspecting his manhood.” Now what…?” he stammered. She smiled and with her index finger signaled him to join her.

John sat in front of Agnes in the tub. He was feeling stupid, bathing with a woman. He is not used to it. He’s eyes were elusive to her stare and like a toddler he plays with the bar of soap. She touched him with her toes. “ You really are blushing you know? Please…don’t be scared…look at me…. study my body…play with me…” she teased him. He’s jaw nearly dropped open. “ How am I supposed to do that? Where do I start…what do I do?” he questioned himself. Still he did not move. She laughed loud. “ You should see yourself…you look like a small boy seeing his first pornographic picture…here, let me help you” and she took his hand and placed it onto her naked breast. John nearly fainted. He started to shiver with excitement. He tried to act normal, but he knew even an idiot could see through him. With held back tension he slowly started to caress her breast. She smiled and lied back with her eyes closed. John looked down and studied her exposed genitals. Her pubic hair was drifting on the water between her opened thighs. She waved her legs on purpose so that her sweet rapture opened and closed in a rithm. She did it deliberately to lure him into more action.

She peeped at him as he just sat there, watching her. “ Go on…touch it…feel it…” she whispered. He first looked at her, and then at her opened legs wider to enhance the space. “ No….I can’t…..” he stammered. She lifted her head.” Do it John…now..” she commanded. He looked at her and licked his dry lips. He then slowly moved forward and touched her pubic hair. She smiled.” Deeper….go deeper.go down a bit..don’t be scared..it woun’t bite.” she invited him and slide down for him to reach her better. He swallowed hard and let his fingers slowly slip into her opening. She leaned backwards and let out a little groan.” That feels good…now start to rub softly down there..” He obeyed hesitantly and let his fingers slide up and down her rapture. She groaned with pleasure every time he touched her erect button and then took his hand in hers.” Here- let me help you” She placed his fingers slowly into her vaginal entrance and slowly starts to wriggle her buttocks into his fingers. He was frozen with shock and excitement. His own manhood nearly pushed a whole in his stomach with lust and excitement. He could barely control himself.

He felt the warm feeling of her body as his fingers slips in and out of her inner pleasure. She let him play for a while and then she suddenly sat up. “ Let’s go to bed. I want you to make love to me now and here…” she whispered. John had to swallow hard to get rid of the knob in his throat. He slowly pulled his fingers out of her womanhood and stood up. She took his erect buldge in her hands, and started to kiss it. His penis is fully erected and he can feel his own secretion flowing down his inner pipe. He could feel his testicles swelling, and his penis head becoming hard with tension. Smiling, she let go and he climbed out of the bathtub and lends a hand to her. She took it and pulled herself out of the water. She got out and stood in front of him. She took his shaft in her hand and pressed it softly. “ Come on cowboy…let’s go..” she whispered and then turned for the bedroom…naked and wet.

10. CHAPTER 7

THE BANDITS

Jim Turney stared through his hotel window to the chaos in the streets of Nairobi. Gun toting guerillas is riding in the backs of yesteryear’s trucks, firing Lee Enfield and AK 47 rifles in the air. The populace around the streets is cheering and dancing to the new “ liberators” The banality of the population in this country nowadays is just mind-boggling. Everything is just turning to a free for all. Shops are looted, vehicles and buildings burned, so-called collaborators of the white regime are mercilessly killed and businessmen intimidated to financially support the so-called struggle. Jim was born in Kempton Park in South Africa. Business requested of him to do regular trips to African countries, as was this one. It was on this trip that he was supposed to meet a gentleman called Daniel Oburu, a businessman from Tompson’s Falls, for negotiations on a diamond deal. The contact never showed up at the pre-arranged meeting place in Nairobi. Jim arrived two weeks ago at the so-called Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, as it is now known, and was driven here to his hotel. With these amok going on, nobody is allowed to venture the streets for their own safety. The airport also has been closed temporarily. Jim is a hard man. He stood six foot nine in his boots. A broad man he is, with a face that rarely shows any expression. His eyes are icy cold and he never so much as try to smile. He trained as a martial arts instructor and his beloved weapons are his two Bowie knives he carried on his shoulder blades in sheads. He could kill a man at twenty yards with those knives with a mere flick of his wrist. Jim also is trained in other evenly deadly weapons, which he also carried in his bag. He is a man that trusts nobody, and is skeptic to anybody’s approach.

Jim stood with his hands on his sides, barely moving. He studied an individual that stood on the cab of one of the leading lorries. The figure was clad in khaki with a rifle, presumably an AK in his hands. In the other hand he held a megaphone through which the imbecile is trying to raise all hell between the locals and those who wants to listen to the crap. Jim couldn’t understand a word what the fool is blabbering about, but he has a good idea of the subject, and he can bet his arse on it that it was definitely not an invitation to a garden tea party. Oh how he would like to drop that piece of shit with only one arrow from his hand bow in his case. Nobody would even notice the direction the dart came from. Every living monkey around here now are trying to be the one or other natural political hero, it’s just a bloody shame these arse holes must battle so hard to get natural political admirers. The way they kill and shit on their own fans will leave them in no time without any supporter to Yankee Doodle to. There are so many warring factions in this place, with more streaming in from neighbouring countries that nobody ever will know who is fucking whom. Furthermore there is the supposed army that was formed the other day with their out dated Lee Enfields.

The poor rats don’t even know which is the business end of a gun. To improve the shit flying around here does the government in waiting to be an aide de camp for their fools import the mercenaries. What a damn shit-hole this turned out to be, and he is sitting in the middle of all this. He doesn’t even belong here. Why the hell didn’t he stay at home? He stood there for another ten minutes, and then decided he had enough of this shit. He is going back to his homeland, whether it is by transport or by foot. If he had to kill a few untamed animals along the way- so be it. There are in any case so many killings going around, these barbarians wouldn’t realize shit what killed them. He turned around and strolled to his bags. He only needed cash, his passport, and two pairs of clothing, a water bottle and his arsenal. He decided that as from today, Kenya would supply him with whatever he will otherwise need for his tour.

It was a quarter to four when Jim waked past the reception desk in the lobby. The porter at the door was too much involved in the rubbish going on in the street to even notice him passing. Jim was wearing easy clothing, which he intends to swap for bush gear as soon as he reached the outskirts of town. In his left hand he carried a knapsack with his belongings he will need, and in his sleeve of his right hand he hid one of his beloved Bowies, should any fool tries to hinder him. His accommodation is paid up for another three days and should anybody realize he was not booking out; he would be long gone by then. He entered the overcrowded street and felt the warm humid air struck him in the face. Everywhere he noticed people singing and clapping hands, being charged to the peak of mass hysteria by the screwball with his tin toy-gun. He decided to turn to the opposite direction of the madman and his entourage, and walk in a southerly direction, away from the conglomeration of hysterical idiots. He lengthened his strides and tried to miss oncoming spectators. Here and there one or two les miserables shouted abuse in his direction, others pointing at him, but he decided to ignore the clots. He must get out of this mess as soon as possible.

He was walking past a makeshift fruit stall when suddenly a hand grabbed him from behind. Jim didn’t want to create too much attention and walked on. A voice from behind shouted his name and ordered him to stop. Jim timed his move well, and then acted with lightning speed. He stopped suddenly and the unknown fool behind him bumped smack into his back- not expecting Jim to stop so abruptly. His right hand shot backwards. With all his power he grabbed the unknown pestering idiot behind him right between the legs and grabbed the nuts. He squeezed as hard as he can whilst starting to walk again, pulling the poor bastard along. He could hear the groans of agony from behind and feel as the shit tried to loosen his grip. Jim turned sharp into a small opening in the building next to him out of sight of the pedestrians and gunslingers. As he ducked into the opening, he turned around abruptly, grabbing the person by the throat whilst still puncturing his marbles. To his amazement he looked into the bulging eyes of Farouk, one of the local Arabs he met while being here on several visits. Farouk runs a local food shop in the same street, and Jim had dinner with him and his wife many a time when visiting this part of the country. He released Farouk’s family jewels and released his grip on the man’s neck.” Farouk…you damn arsehole…shit man…you never ever do that again…you could’ve being with Allah much quicker than you think…” Jim retorted apologetic, but with a sigh of relief.

Farouk gulped a few times whilst rubbing his valuables feverishly. “ Hey man effendi…you want to kill me…. no man…since when do you grab a man by his balls? I tried to stop you, but you just kept on walking. I saw you leaving the hotel and I thought maybe you wanted some help” Jim eyed the little Arab cautiously.” Help with what?” The little man eyed him with a smile on his lips, still nourishing his nuts. “ Effendi…. I know you too well. No man leaves a hotel on a midday stroll like that, especially not you in such a hurry. I know that bag of tricks that you carry too well, and you must try to hide that knife of yours better. The moment I saw you, I said to myself: Farouk, that white man is for some reason not going back to that hotel…he is up to some mischief again and will need help…am I right effendi?” Jim shook his head. “ You know Farouk, one of these days somebody is going to cut your tongue out. You talk too much…yes, I am getting out of this rubbish dump.” Farouk looked at him questionly.” You are going where…and how? Jim pointed to his feet. Farouk looked at his feet and then sheepishly at him.” You walk…that Farouk can see…but to where?”

Jim lifts his eyebrows.” To good old South Africa my man” Farouk stared at Jim in total amazement for a second, then started to laugh in hysteria.”Whaaat…you walk to South Africa…. from here?” he stuttered in between the sobs of laughter. Jim let him have his bit of the comical side. He is a good chap after all. When eventually Farouk got himself under control, he looked at Jim with watery eyes that he tried to wipe with his sleeve. “ You must excuse me Effendi….I know you are a strange man…….but I never heard of anybody trying to travel over five countries by foot……….why not rather rent a camel if you really want to be that close to nature……better for sightseeing..” he stuttered and began to giggle again. Jim looked at him in earnest.” Farouk…I really am thinking of cutting your bloody tongue out myself you little bastard. Did you stop me just so that you can stand there laughing at me…. or are you going to help me?” Farouk wiped his eyes again. “ O.K, O.K, I am sorry,O.K…what do you want?” Jim studied the street.” Something to get away from this lot………..something in the form of transport………….and definitely not a camel if you please” Farouk smiled. “ No, no….I was just joking you know Effendi……..let me think……….O.K…..my second nephew on my mother’s side might have a British jeep, just maybe, but he will want some money for it……they are poor people you know” Jim eyed him for a moment. He knows the Arabs are cunning salesmen who liked to bargain. If you don’t bargain, they think you underestimate their intelligence.” How much, when…and where?” he asked.

Farouk looked down to the ground and thought for a second.” Ahhh you know how it is Effendi…hard times you know…but for you, he will give special price…let’s say if you maybe can give him two hundred British pounds he will be a very happy man I think” Jim shook his head and pretend to be in a hurry.” The hell I will pay two hundred pounds…I don’t even know if that rubbish will start…I will pay you five hundred shilling, and that’s it..” Farouk shook his head vigorously.” No, no, please Effendi…you know me…I’m a good and honest man, and jeeps are hard to come by nowadays…. besides, as you know ….we don’t want this country’s money….it is shit….you cannot buy anyplace except here…no value…….O.K…I will talk to my nephew……what about a hundred pounds then?” Jim smiled one of his rare smiles. He would like to drop the price more, but somehow he feels sorry for the little Arab. He knows Farouk does not even have that secret nephew, and will most likely go and steal a jeep from the British or the Kenyans…but who the shit cares, so long he gets his jeep.” O.K Farouk…deal…and for that price I want a full tank of diesel included” Farouk stared at him cynically for a moment. “ We must not include a tour guide…. and maybe a list of all the hotels down the route for the effendi as well?” he asked with a sarcastic smile. Jim pointed his finger at him.” Little man…one of these days…one of these days I am going to wipe you arse with your tongue…watch it!”

Farouk eyed the street cautiously, and then grabbed Jim by the sleeve.” C’mon…Effendi…. let’s get the hell outta here before these monkeys sees us..” and he pulled Jim into a side street.” We go to my house ‘till tomorrow. I will go to my nephew tonight and get the jeep. You wait at my house until I return…. yes?” Jim hurried along. “ You better hurry with that jeep tonight Farouk. I want to be gone by sunrise” Farouk shook his head in acknowledgment. “ Yes…Yes… not to worry Effendi…Farouk make quick time…nephew does not stay very far..come now…hurry” As dusk approached, the two of them disappeared in the maze of buildings and streets to Farouk’s house.

It was round about three the next morning when Farouk eventually arrived with the jeep. Jim wondered where the little Arab got hold of the vehicle. He guessed that some or the other Kenyan liberation movement will have to do without transport this morning. Farouk’s wife had cooked up a healthy supper the previous night and Jim ate well. After the meal, he had a bath and went to the makeshift bed Farouk’s wife pieced together in the tiny kitchen. He slept like a log until she woke him with another cup of sweet strong pepper tea. She also packed some bread, olives, fish and whine in his knapsack, for it might be awhile before he will be able to have a good meal again. Jim then paid Farouk for the Jeep and gave something extra for the hospitality. He had another cup of hot tea before he prepared to leave. Farouk stood in front of him, hands behind his back. Jim could see and smell that he was out the whole night. Farouk followed his movements without moving his head. Jim could feel the little man was troubled. He looked Jim in the eye. ” When we see Effendi again…?” he asked. Jim shook his head. “ Dunno…the way things are going now, I don’t think we will see each other for quite a while…too dangerous my little friend”

Farouk got a sad expression on his face.” We will miss Effendi…very good friend indeed…this place no good….I understand” Jim felt sorry for his little friend.” What are you going to do if things get out of hand? I understand some of your people were killed at a missionary in Tanganjika recently.” Farouk dropped his gaze to the ground.” Yes my friend. Sadly that is so. Fortune does not smile upon any foreign person in this country anymore…if things go very bad…I have some relatives in Khartoum. I think I will go there.” Farouk wiped some tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.” I think Effendi go now before it is too late.” he answered with a trembling voice. Jim nodded and embraced Farouks wife, then Farouk.” Thanks for everything little man. I will never forget you…. maybe, someday…. who knows…. when all this shit is over…. who knows” Farouk took Jim’s hand in both his and bowed respectfully. He then softly kissed Jim on both cheeks.” Allah Akhbar Allah…I will pray that Allah looks after you …and the Great Prophet Mohammad guides your feet in safety to your destiny…God bless you my friend and go well…maybe we will meet again someday..” For the first time in his life Jim felt a sense of guilt…guilt for leaving this good people alone in this mess, and angry for the way things turned out. He swallowed hard on the knob in his throat and turned away to the door before his friends could see the wetness emerging in his eyes. He quickly rushes down the stairs of Farouks second story home and got into the waiting jeep.

The sun still hasn’t shown itself, and Jim knew that it would be a cool day today. Although Nairobi is only about a hundred and fifty kilometers from the equator, the heat only varies between eighteen and twenty centigrade due cause of the elevation of the city. He looked back and saw Farouk paused for a moment before closing the door and he then heard the sound as the bolt was locked from inside. As he placed his knapsack next to him, he saw some plastic sticking out of his bag. Quickly he opened it, and to his shock saw it was money. He counted it, and to his dismay realized it was the one hundred pounds he gave Farouk for the jeep. He must have placed it back into Jim’s knapsack without Jim noticing. He gave Jim all he had to survive. Suddenly tears shot into his eyes and he shook with bitterness. He had enough back home, he was well dug into life…didn’t need anything, yet this poor destitute people gave him all they had…. everything they possessed in the form of money…yet they did that to give him, a total stranger, a chance for survival, and this with the knowledge that they may be facing death themselves in due time.

11. HEADING SOUTH

The rising sun found Jim about eighty kilometers from Nairobi on his way to Namanga, a little town south west of Nairobi. Jim decided to go the shortest route out of this forsaken territory, and that would mean crossing the border at Taveta, another small settlement on the border with Tanzania, more or less two hundred and fifty kilometers from Nairobi. This route will take him just past Tsavo National Park. He heard that there was a slaughter going on there of the hapless animals. He would like to move in there and shoot the blue shits out of the dumb fuckers, but common sense told him to proceed with this road. No need to endanger ones life unnecessary. He thought of Farouk, what will happen with him and his wife………most probably shot in the street like so many other of his kind. Jim can feel the anger building in his body.” Don’t worry old friend…I will see to it that a few of these bastards join you in the hereafter…” he muttered. He will drive until he reached Taveta, lie low for a few days, and as soon as opportunity knocks, jump the border to Tanzania. He will be back someday, and then he will make sure somebody pays for the demise of his friend and so many others just like him. The heat now is starting to intensify as he drove further south towards Namanga.

He stopped about thirty kilometers from Nairobi and changed into his bush gear and boots. His sub machine gun, an 9 mm Uzi, are loaded and at the ready. He attached six spare magazines back to back to each other for fast reload. His crossbow was placed on the floorboard with a dart in the groove, and twelve extra in the holders on his sleeves. Both his knives are in place in their sheads. His blowpipe is hidden in his right side trousers, and only need be attached. The little poisonous arrows are in a glass container in his shirt pocket, and the eight Chinese Shuriken throwing stars are embedded in his belt. In his bag he stashed eight Mills hand grenades. Jim never traveled through this unforgiving place alone without protection. If the Mau Mau stops him, well, shit will be flying in all directions. There is no way he is going to be a pushover. They will have to fight like hell to get to him. He knows all the tricks in the warfare book…and then some more.

He knew the country quite well, understands the bush, knows how to survive on these plains and understand the way of killing adversaries quick and painless. He smiled at the idea of getting his hands on one of these little pissheads. He took the bottle of rice whine Farouk’s wife packed, and pulled the cork out with his teeth. He chucked his head backwards and took a good swing at the bottle. The sun was climbing rapidly into the blue sky as the jeep and it’s passenger merged with the grasslands far down below.

12. CHAPTER 8

The air was tense in the truck. Len was scarcely breathing.” How the hell did Baus see the bastards in all this muck? Even the birds are walking.” he wondered silently as he watches the movement in the tall grass. Baus was now ready with the rifle. He pointed at something in the grass.” The bloody bastards are trying to encircle us. Watch how they crawl on their hands and knees through the grass. You can see the grass bending down as their weight suppresses it!” he whispered to Len, and nodded in both the right as well as left direction. “ They are trying to ambush us…make us concentrate on the frontal attack, while the others then attack us from the back and sides. The little cunning bastards!!” Baus looked at Len.” Just sit tight and pretend nothing happened. I am going to slide down my side and get out to warn the others. They cannot as yet see me from their position.” He whispered again. Len canvassed the area. Baus is right. They gathered on his eleven o’clock, and the scouts now are starting to move away for the encircling maneuver. Thus then means that Baus will be on the other side of their vision, protected and obscured by the truck, and will not be visually available for at least five or so minutes to them. Baus opened the door quietly and looked at Len.” If something happens…cover me…” and he then slowly and silently slid downwards to the tall grass below. All the time Len watched every move the grass made ahead of him, indicating the movements of the approaching attackers. “ You better hurry………we haven’t got much time…” he urged Baus, who now also are crouching in the grass.

Baus looked around, and then disappeared from Len’s view to the back of the truck. Len cocked his revolver and took a handful of bullets from his pocket. This he kept in his left hand for quick reloading. He slides towards the driver’s side and slowly exits the cab. Softly without drawing too much attention, he lurked behind the engine cab, keeping an eye on the assailants all the time. He looked back and saw Baus sliding on his stomach towards the truck of Chris Staplefeld, a diary farmer. He also noticed movement at the leading truck, and saw Frank crouched next to his vehicle, rifle in the hand, aiming in the attackers direction.” So, good old Frank was awake after all…. good man” he thought. He suddenly realized that if Frank shoots now, Baus would be caught in the open. He let out a sharp, short whistle. Frank yanked back and stared at him. He signaled to Baus in the Kikuyu grass and waved his hands to Frank not to shoot. Luckily Frank realized what was going on and gave the “ thumbs up”

Both Frank and his passenger, Peter Aldridge, waited for Baus to warn Chris. Len saw Baus knocking on the door of the Lorry. Cris opened it and he saw Baus talking to Chris, pointing in the frontal direction.. Chris and his co-driver got out and squatted with their rifles next to their truck, whilst Baus leopard crawled back to join Len. Len looked at Frank and Peter. Frank waved at the others, and indicated that he will count to three with his fingers, then all must open fire on a target. All the others acknowledge with a nod of the head. Frank took aim, and all the others follow suite, watching his left hand counting down. When his last finger was dropped, all hell broke loose. The sound of six rifles echoed through the bushes like thunderclaps above the sound of the falling rain. Baus saw one Mau Mau fighter emerged from his hiding, just to spin around and sagged to the ground with a bullet in the neck. The sound of doors slammed joined the cacophony as more trekkers jumped out of the trucks and joined the fight. Bodies ducked underneath the trucks and start to fire their rifles as soon as they touch the ground. All in all fifteen rifles and six revolvers joined the staccato of gunfire.

The clapping sounds were joined by the staccato of the Vickers machine gun, and Len could see the grass and foiledge being mesmerized by the heavy bullets. He wondered who is manning the gun, for Peter was standing next to Frank. Screams mixed with the noise as the Vickers started to find its target. Len could see bodies reeling in the air, falling backwards as the powerful machinegun sang out his song of death. The other now had also realized what the attackers planned, and while the Vickers was doing a jolly good job in the front, the others was covering the sides and cut down the possibility of a side or rear attack. Suddenly yelling figures emerged from the grass and the attackers stormed the convoy openly, realizing their cover was blown. Pangas flew through the air and the clanging sound of steel striking steel could be heard as the big knives struck the bodies of the trucks. Baus saw one Mau Mau warrior jumped onto the back of Lawry’s Truck and disappeared under the canvass. He swerved his gun, but the next instant saw the warrior reeling out of the truck with an agonizing scream. The man was protecting his face and Baus guessed somebody on the inside had the locust pump with acid doing a bit of laboring. He swerved his rifle back and was just in time to see a panga ripping the canvass of another lorry, disappearing through the gash. Quickly he fired a few shots in the direction of the panga’s origin, but the rain obscured his view too much to aim correctly.

Joan was sitting inside the truck of Louw Venter with some of the other women and kids when the attack came. She handed Timo to Cecielia and grabbed her .22 rifle. She drew the bolt back and inserted bullets. Through an opening in the canvass she then took aim at the oncoming figures and blasted at anything moving, pumping the bolt with expert hands. She saw two or three attackers jumping in the air as bullets found their mark. Lola was standing next to her, opening another packet of bullets whilst guarding the entrance at the back with the locust pump. Mary joined her with the .303 rifle and side-by-side they let the bullets fly in all directions.

Jima saw his warriors moving towards the trucks. He studied the movements inside the trucks, but due to the rain on the windscreens, could not make out what was going on inside. He decided to wait a few moments ‘till all his warriors were in place, and then give the signal. Jima raised his hand for the signal…. now is the time. As his hand started to move downwards, there was a sudden crack, followed by more. Jima’s body jerked with shock. He saw Lunga, his childhood friend, jump in the air and spun to the ground. As he fell, blood was streaming from a wound in his neck. His face was contorted with pain. He looked feebly at Jima.” Jima…. brother…help me…. something bit me on my neck…please…I am getting cold brother…”Jima was bewildered. He didn’t know what happened. He know Lunga was being shot, and there was nothing he could do. How could the whites have known they were here? He looked at Lunga as he was sprawled on his back on the wet grass, gasping and digging with his hands in the earth as his life ebbed away slowly. He’s eyes were getting glassy, and Jima knows his friend and compatriot through so many attacks are now going to his ancestors. Anger and tears roused into Jima’s eyes. He will kill them all…. even if it has to be with his bare hands. He signaled for his warriors to attack, but then he saw that his comrades were pinned down by heavy gunfire from the trucks. Something must’ve warned them…but what? For several minutes he and his warriors flattened themselves to avoid the flying bullets, then he screamed the war cry to his men. They emerged as one and stormed the trucks. Jima saw some of his braves hurled to the ground as bullets stung into their naked torsos.

With a mighty cry his let fly with his panga. He saw the knife flying through a truck’s canvass and heard a scream inside. He felt the adrenaline pumping in his veins as he stormed forward with his spear. Today these white monkeys will pay for the death of his brother and friend. He will cut their throats and eat their livers. The death of his warriors must be avenged. With hate in his eyes he hurled himself at the trucks. The next moment he heard a strange sound of a strange gun. He saw his warriors felled down like flies as bullets ripped them apart. Jima ducked to one side and stared in amazement as one warrior after the other succumbs to this deadly weapon. Branches were cut down; pieces of rock and debris flew in all directions, even chips of wood were bitten out of huge trees. Jima didn’t know what to do. He didn’t expect something like this to happen. It was the first time he experience such an onslaught from the opposition. He tried to see what kind of weapon could create such destruction so fast. He lifted his head above the rock he was hiding behind to try to pinpoint the weapon. As he lifted his head, he suddenly felt as if a mighty hammer struck him between the eyes. His whole world dazzled before him, and he tried to cling to the rock, but the rock was moving as well. He felt sick, and could not see anymore. Everything was black. He stammered to his knees, and felt another blow hit him in his ribs. He forced himself to his feet. ]

For two three paces he dragged his tired body forward as blow by blow punched into his hapless body. With a raw cry he sank to his knees, slowly toppled sideways, and felled between the tall grasses. As he lied there, battered and broken by multiple bullet wounds, he could hear the chatter of the secret weapon far, far away. Everything is suddenly so peaceful…so quiet, as if in a dream. He can see his grandfather standing between the cows, indicating to him to follow. He greeted his grandfather respectfully, and saw his sister that went to the ancestors a long time ago, standing next to his grandfather, holding a pot of sour porridge to him. He smiled. So, this then is the land of the ancestors. It’s so beautiful. The grass is so green, the sky a warm glow of the sun. He unwillingly wondered if he would see Lunga here. His felt tired, his eyes heavy, so sleepy, and slowly with a sad smile on his face, Jima, the great warrior of the Kikuyu tribe, sank quietly into the soft embracement of the everlasting land where only the bravest of the brave go.

As sudden as it started, the attack stopped. For a few moments nothing happened. The only sound was that of the rain falling onto the iron bodies of the trucks. Smoke hung in the air, and dead bodies scattered the battlefield. The air was tense. Nobody moved. A deadly silence sank onto the area. Here and there a soft groan could be heard. Frank studied the edge of the bushes in front of him. His finger at the ready on the trigger. He searched the trees for movement, but could see none. Peter was breathing heavily next to him. After a few more moments he eased his finger on the trigger and lifted his head. Peter still eyed the bushes with caution.” You think that was the last of them?” he questioned softly. Frank nodded.” Yeah…I recon so…let’s check the others…” and he lowered his gun. He brought both his hands to his mouth.” O.K everybody…. this is it…lets get down to repair work and check the wounded…. c’mon!!!” he shouted as hard as he can so everybody could hear. He doesn’t want a trigger-happy person to start shooting his own allies.

As Frank walked towards the dead warriors, he could see people emerging from all around the trucks. Although everybody felt the sense of relief, the trekkers were still stunned with the circumstances. They realized that the road ahead would be one of hardships indeed. From one of the trucks there came a soft groan. Frank rushed to the truck and stuck his head into the opening in the canvass. He waited until his eyes got used to the dark, and then clambered into the truck. In the far right corner of the truck lied a body. Next to the body sat a figure crouched. Frank approached the pair. He was shocked at what he saw.

On the floor, lying on her side was Susan De Beer. A plate size puddle of blood was eminent next to her head on the floor. A huge panga, smeared with blood, now are lying silently next to her. A huge gash in her head out of which streams of dark red blood are spurting, told Frank she’s beyond any human help. Her blue eyes were closed and her voice forever mute.. Next to her, her sister Sarie was kneeling, sobbing and shaking, holding her sister’s head in her hands. Frank was silent. What do you say to the family? He stood there…mesmerized. He wanted to put his arm around Sarie and comfort her, but his logic told him to retreat softly and call the other members of the family to handle the situation…that will be the best. He quietly turned back and step down of the truck. Outside he walked up to Niklaas, the deceased girl’s father. He pulled him away from the others and told him as diplomatically as he could of his daughter’s demise. Niklaas just stood there, staring at Frank as if he could not believe what he just heard. Frank could see the tears slowly bulging into the old man’s tired eyes. His head and shoulders sagged. He looked much older now than his sixty odd years.

Frank knew this was too much for the old timer. He embraced the old shoulders and they stood like that for some moments. Frank patted the old man on the back. “ I’m sorry Nic…this was not supposed to be…she was a beautiful kid…now she will be resting in the arms of our Heavenly Father, and will no more feel the pain and hardships of this world. Maybe God wanted it that way…He has given…now He has taken..” he whispered in remorse. Nic ‘s shoulders were shaking. Raw pain forced the hard old farmer to cry like a baby. “ She…she was so young…only sixteen…she was in the prime of her childhood. She did not deserve to die like this. She did not even deserve to die at all. Why Frank…why her…. why not me?” he angrily sobbed between the tears. Frank looked away from Nic. “ I don’t know Nic…. God knows….I don’t know…” and slowly he turned away to leave the old man alone with his grief. A dreadful silence fell onto the members of the convoy as the horrible news spreaded quickly in soft whispers around the trekkers.

13. CHAPTER 9

It was nearing three o’ clock in the afternoon, and the thunderstorm still has not as yet subdued completely. The worst part is over as the mighty clouds unleashed their fury on the plains. Wind shears of up to eighty kilometers punished the landscape for nearly two hours. Now the sound of running water mingled with the happy chirping of hundreds of frogs in the countless puddles, formed by the storm around the vast expanse of grasslands. A soft drizzle aided by a strong north-westerly wind of around forty knots was still sweeping the landscape. Trees and tall grass swing to and fro in the twisting gusts. Lightning is still at play around the far stretched mountaintops on the horizon. Dark blue rain clouds still engulfed the savannas. Carr sat huddled with his jacket over his head under the big thorn tree canopy. He was soaking wet and as cold as a Polar rabbit. Rusty huddled in underneath him for some warmth. Together they sat like that through the battering of the unforgiving storm. Carr peered through the curtain of rain towards the east. He tried to figure his co-ordinates in order to estimate which way to go. Presently, without the sun, he had no sense of direction. To be left in this wilderness, without food, direction or a weapon will be just short of a suicidal attempt. Too many wild animals use this route for emigrational grazing, and where there are animals, there will as sure as hell be carnivores. Carr pondered about the options left. Not much by the look of things. He had one beer left, no food, masses of water, no direction…and Rusty. The dog might be able to catch some food, but how the hell will he be able to fry it…. all his matches are soaked. At least he had a hunting knife to skin whatever Rusty intends to chuck on the table.

Carr stood up. Rusty eyed him questionly. He looked down to his dog.” C’mon Mate…. let’s take a hike and have a look see what’s yonder…” He stretched his legs and arms. For a moment he studied the vicinity, but came to the conclusion that it was a lost case anyway…he wasn’t even sure where the hell he could be. Best is to start walking in a presumable southwestern direction, the direction of the wind. Somehow he will eventually manage to find his way as soon as the sun brake through the damn cloud covers. The rain broke down to a soft drizzle. Hands in his wet pockets Carr started to walk towards the direction where the sun normally sets. Rusty ran ahead of him, sniffing the ground as he goes. Here and there a bewildered pheasant soar into the cool air with a lot of annoying chatter. Rusty attempted to chase them at first, but the long grass hindered him so much, it eventually became more of a game than a hunt. Carr was not very worried about his circumstances. He was an indigenous local of the Australian out backs before he moved to Kenya. Things are not much different here than there, except maybe for the continuous rains over here. He was born in a small outback town called Kalgoorlie, next to the Great Victorian desert in western Australia This little town lies about at the limits of the area of the earth’s surface, which the sun sometimes can be directly overhead.

The climate is dry and hot, in contrast with Kenya that is an inter-tropical convergence zone being near the Equator. Besides that, Carr is used to marshes, swamps, wetlands and savannas. His first eighteen years was spent on a cattle ranch with harsh conditions, the next five as a footslogger with the Royal Australian Infantry in worst places like Burma, Papua New Guinea and the Solomon Islands, as well as Fiji. By completion of the Second World War, he started a chartering business with two old World War Two Dakota’s he leased from an American tycoon. He then expanded his interests to Africa, and finally decided to settle in Kenya- thus the reason why he had no family… traveling too much as he always said.

“ To be or not to be…to fly or to damn footslog. Shit, it doesn’t look this far from the damn sky” he complained to himself as he pushed through the tall grass. The grass covered an area of about ten odd kilometers in the direction he was going, and it slowed his pace considerably, not even to mention the potholes and rocks hidden in the thick foyer. Here and there he had to struggle to keep his balance as he unexpectedly sank into a hidden swamp. He wondered if the little peanut brain at Nakuru would even attempt to convey his distress call to the authorities, not that anyone might find him in this vast plain full of shit. A long trail of flattened grass marked his trail as he progressed through the wilderness. He looked around, but cannot see or hear Rusty. He wondered where the hell that dog could be.

For five and quarter hours Carr battled the Flora of the plains before he eventually reached flatter grounds. Tired and wet he sanked onto the first boulder he saw. Panting and sweating he sat there for half an hour. His feet hurts like hell, his legs are aching and he felt so thirsty he could suck on an elephant for all that matters. He watched Rusty as the dog joined him somewhat later, wet and dirty. The dog shook himself dry and sat next to him. Carr looked at the dog’s dirty face, tongue hanging out.” Hell,I’m glad at least one of us has been enjoying himself hey?” he said to the dog and patted him on the head. They sat in silence for another hour or so when suddenly Rusty’s ears pointed and he stood up. Carr looked in the direction the dog was facing, but could see nothing.” What is it boy…. what do you see?” he asked. The dog licked his face and then jumped up and ran towards an object obscured to Carr’s vision. About a hundred yards to the left the dog suddenly stopped and started to bark. Carr got worried and stood up. He began to walk in the dog’s direction when Rusty again ran forward. Carr could see him disappear around a flat bush. For a moment there was silence, then a commotion broke loose at the inside of the bush. Immediately Carr reached for his knife.

He heard low growls and the earnest yapping of the canine, but still couldn’t make out what the shamoose was all about. This could be bad. He lurked low to the ground and waited. The next moment Rusty came flying around the bush with a huge warthog following closely on his tail. The dog made a u-turn and aimed straight for Carr to seek protection, but Carr was caught totally unawares and for a second froze in his tracks. This is now one thing he was not prepared for, neither had the energy for, and that was a steamed up warthog sow with piglets, charging towards him with the speed of a midnight express with no brakes. He looked around and saw a reasonably medium size thorn tree about five hundred yards to his right. He estimated the distance and started to run as if the devil himself is behind him. Frankly, if he had any choice now…he would have picked the devil rather than this overheated search engine behind him. Rusty saw his master turn tail and changed his own course to follow…and so does the pig. Carr ran like he never did before in his life. He knew the history of those types of carnivores sticking out of the animal’s upper jaws, and was in no mood to get entangled with them.

He looked around his shoulder, and saw Rusty gaining on him…and so is the pig. “ Shit, you damn fucking stupid dog…. why the hell must you always stir the fuckin shit you dumb bastard!!” he shouted in frustration to the dog. The tree is still about three hundred and fifty yards ahead and the pig now is gaining ground fast. Carr’s legs wanted to buckle underneath the sudden strain. Rusty overtook Carr and ran ahead, leaving Carr to the mercy of the hog. “ You damn fuckerrrr……….I’m gonna kick your balls out…stupid mutt!!!” Carr shouted between the gasps of breath to the dog as Rusty ran into a wide circle, yapping as he go. Carr could hear the ominous sound of the hog’s hoofs and the grunts behind him. He looked around and saw the pig is nearly on his heels, lowering her warted head. “ Oh my God….O my shit…!!” he shouted and with all his effort added flight to his buckling knees. Just as Carr was expecting a gaffle in his backside, the pig suddenly stopped.

Carr turned his head. Rusy had completed his circle and ran into the hog from behind, biting into its hindquarter. The hog spun around and set chase for this new menace. Rusty seems to enjoy this, and ran in dashes and circles. This gave Carr the much-needed time to get to his life saving tree at last. He jumped in the air, grabbed a low branch, and heaved himself with his last effort into a split in the branches. Panting and moaning, he sat there for a few minutes to catch his breath. Down below Rusty was now sitting next to the tree, panting whilst the hog grazed about ten meters away as if nothing happened. A lot of small piglets joined her with their tails in the air like a lot of sports car aerials. Carr nearly passed out of exhaustion. He had to cling to the branches to stay on top. He looked at Rusty, and sweared the blue hell out of the dog. Rusty just looked up , tongue hanging out, and wagged his tail.

Carr was definitely not amused. He glared at the dog, and then at the pig. “ How fucking long do you suppose I’ll have to sit here you dumb shit?” he bombarded the dog again. He broke a branch an attempted to throw the sow with it, but it fell short and went unnoticed by her. Only some of the piglets stopped for a moment and looked in his direction.” Oh my lord…I haven’t got the time for this shit” he muttered. For the next half an hour or so, Carr had to enjoy the view of the hog and her offspring lazily grazing around the tree before she decided to return to her burrow. Painful and sore all over Carr then struggled to get to the ground. Rusty was still at the bottom of the tree, licking and cleaning himself when Carr landed next to him with a hard” thumb”, giving him a nasty kick in the ribs for good measure. The dog yelped and crouched to the ground, awaiting the next kick, but it never came. Carr was already on his way towards the visible settlement he saw from the tree between the mountains about ten kilometers away to the east. Dusk was now starting to emerge from the horizon, and Carr knew he had to move fast before nightfall or he will end up as supper to one of Mother Nature’s cleaning services.

14. CHAPTER 10

Agnes was lying on her back on the three quarter bed in the room, the blankets entangled in a bundle on the floor. John was lying next to her, still sleeping.” Poor man…still exhausted..” she thought while she took another puff from her Springbok cigarette. She studied her naked body, then his. The morning sun was just about to finally break through its shelter of clouds. For a moment she paused to listen to the happy songs of the birds in the Oak tree. She watched John’s slow rhythmic breathing. She thought of the night before. When they entered the bedroom, she had to build John’s self-confidence. “ Shame…. he was like a little boy, not knowing what to do next” she recapped softly. A slow smile eveloped around the corners of her mouth. She remembers him standing there with no clue as what is supposed to happen. She took him by the hand and closed the door, not that there was anybody to see, but that gave him some sense of privacy.

She then started to stroke his hairy chest, pinching his nipples softly. With her long nails she drew little figures on his chest, then his belly, and finally his penis. She could hear him inhaling sharply as she touched his scrotum. She had to assure him all the time that it is a natural thing, for the poor man was so tense and rigid, he almost fainted with fright. She sanked to her knees, spreaded her legs apart, and started to stroke the shaft of his erect penis whilst with the other hand she helped herself as well.. He stood there, totally mesmerized. She then took his shaft in her hands, and softly touched his glittering penis head with her tongue. He was totally shocked by this, but mercifully tried not to show anything. She then took the step further and started to copulate with him with easy strokes. She saw his mouth opened and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. She knew he now was lost, and started in earnest to move her head faster to and fro, with her soft lips engulfing his head and shaft.

She took his length in her mouth as deep as possible, rolling her tongue around his head to taste his manhood in full, lapping the bitter juice from his swollen man-thing. She could hear him moaning every time her face muffled into his bushy black pubic hair. She kept this up for at least twenty minutes, and then drew him to the bed. She made him lie down and started to tease him by rubbing her erect nipples and playing with her inner most secret anatomy. When she saw that the poor man is on the brink of explosion, she mounted him with her knees spread wide apart to enhance her vaginal entrance. She firstly took his shaft, and rubbed her sensitive parts against it. Slowly she engaged in the most sensational lovemaking a woman ever could dream about- one she craved for since she met the man of her dreams.

They kept this on for at least a half an hour, both lost in a world of erotic pleasure., when all of a sudden he slumped powerless onto his back, lying there for a moment to gain strength. She rubbed his manhood, smearing his fluids onto her most inner part. He then withdrew and dropped like a sack of potatoes next to her. She stood in that position for a few moments. Fulfilled she dismount and rolled onto her back, tightening her thighs so that none of his precious fluid might get lost. She wanted to bear his child, and this will do just that. She stayed like that for at least an hour to give the sperm time to reach the egg cell. He was lying on his back, just staring in the air, panting. She gave him two hours rest, made him coffee, pampered him, and then they started all over again.

Right through the night they made love, soft and tender, careful and passionate, abandoning all moral ethics, embracing the most generous act human kind received from nature. So intense and carefree was their experience, so lovely and wonderful. Slowly the hours ticked by without them taking any notice that the dark outside was pulling back it’s dark cloak to make way for another day. He eventually just felled asleep on top of her out of sheer exhaustion. She waited until he was sound asleep, then softly pushed him off her, stroking his manhood a last soft tender time. She then made sure her genitals is closed enough for his seed to stay inside, then cautiously turned on her side, and fell into a deep satisfying sleep. This morning she could feel her privacy was bruised, but she didn’t care. She was exited. She knew she will have to stay static with her legs open to give the bruised body parts time to settle down. She doesn’t mind, and decided to take it easy for the rest of the day., She also realize he must be sore as well, so both will have to stay in bed…who knows…. maybe they can try again. She intended to make love to him as much as possible to get all she can.. She was scared that this night never might repeat itself again Maybe the poor man develops such a guilty conscience that he never will want to do it again, you never will know with these priests. If he decides to ignore her, or shy her for that matter, then at least she will not be alone anymore. She will have a baby to care for, and that at least will give her some motivation to carry on in this God forsaken country and a bodacious contribution from him of at least one night they spent together.

John stirred in his sleep. Agnes watched him. She reached out and touched his lips. John’s eyes flickered for a moment, and then he turned his head towards her. He watched her for a long time. “ Agnes…what have we done?” he whispered softly. She stared at the ceiling. She somehow felt hurt by the question. She was right. Here comes the big remorse, and who knows what will follow next…. the purification ritual maybe? She puffed on her cigarette again and blew the smoke in little circles towards the ceiling. Well, if he decides to feel dirty and guilty, so be it. She loves him, but if he wants to primarily be a priest, and be devoted to it, then it will be his choice. She will by no means force him to any commitment.

Eventually, after a long silence she turned to him. “ John, we did what hundreds, no millions of other human beings do naturally…. does that shock you at all?” He gaped at her blatancy. “ I know…but our situation is different. What are we going to do?” She sat up and look at him.” No John, the question is not what we are going to do, but rather what YOU are going to do. I love you John…I loved you from the first day I set eyes on you. For so long I have cuddled my admiration for you inside me, hid it, obscured it from your feelings. Every day I yearned for you, tried to seek your attention, but somehow I was too scared to tell you directly, and on the other hand you were too busy or ignorant to see my intentions. Somehow I had to let you know how I feel…. and if this we had last night make you feel guilty or vulgar…then I will leave and find some other means of living away from you…it is totally your decision” She stood up, grabbed her gown and went to the bathroom where she closed the door.

She stood in front of the mirror, watching her own image and hundreds of thoughts flashed through her head. She felt enraged by his stupid reaction. She thought he might feel elated, satisfied, and maybe now that the ice was broken, at least he would’ve shown compassion and love. She expected him to be subtler in his approached, but no, the first thing the big baboon was thinking of, was his own predicament. A person should swear he committed the ultimate sin and will be punished by firing squad. The damn fool, why can’t he just return her feelings instead of just lying there, feeling sorry for himself. She burst into tears and sank to her hunches, sobbing like a little animal. This turned out worse than she expected. She made a complete fool of herself. Why did she do it? What did she expect do gain from it? She should’ve known that he is a priest, in his heart and his mind, and will never love her, or show his feelings. He is a devoted Roman Catholic, not like her; just do the work because she loves it. She sat like that for a long time, adjusting her mind and giving her feelings free reigns to express what really is going on inside her.

In the bedroom the sun now brightened the chamber. John gingerly sat up. He couldn’t understand what was going on with Agnes. The one moment they made passionate love, then the other she flew up and disappear upset into the bathroom.. He never tried to understand women, nor had he ever any relationship with one. This is so new to him, so strange. He did not initiate this that happened, and never thought of it in the first place. How did he get into a situation like this in the first place? Why did he succumb to the invitation? He admired her for quite a while, but never thought to expand his feelings to this extend. He never wanted this to happen….it is totally in contradiction with this he promotes from the pulpit. How can he ever tell others not to do something like this outside marital matrimony, and he, the shepherd of the flock, is guilty himself? John’s mind was in turmoil. Will he tell her that it’s all over, and what happened was done in a state of total madness…or will he tell her that he do have a strong feeling for her as well? Will he be able and ask God for forgiveness, and carry on to be a clergyman…without Agnes…. or with her? Will he be ready for a commitment:? He sat there with his head in his hands. “ Oh my Lord, what must I do…. I’ve sinned against You and her……….what must I do dear Lord…. help me…I’ve never done this before..” he muttered softly.

15. CHAPTER 11

Wasiri gazed across a valley in Northern Kenya. His leathery face is contorted with wrinkles of many summers. His eyes were old and tired. It was many moons ago since he was a young Samburu warrior that danced with the other warriors and young girls around the fires at night to celebrate their victories. Many of those he knew in days gone by, are no more. Even three of his brides went before him. He was one of the last survivors of a once proud Samburu nation. These days, since the arrival of the white race with their iron horses with fire in their heads, iron monsters on iron feet that scream by night, tree trunks that killed lots of warriors every time it speaks fire and magic flying birds that growls as they passed overhead… everything has changed. They brought with them sticks of thunder that can kill a man even if he is far away, set up great villages of rock and iron, conquered lots of land, and arrived in hundreds from the big water by huge floating villages. The warriors of his time had no knowledge and defense against such strange new weapons. They could track game, kill a lion and read the veldt, but against this magic they were outclassed, slaughtered mercilessly on the battlefields, and lots were incarcerated to be slaves in the huge white huts of the whites. Their horses were fast, and the spears couldn’t kill them.

New laws were brought to his land, strange tongues were spoken and the whites gave them funny pieces of iron and strange leafy stuff with their god’s soul drawn on it in exchange for cattle. They refused, but the white people just loaded the cattle onto their big iron horses and left. He told his warriors to burn the evil iron and strange colored objects. As days go by, the old tribe was extinguished more and more, young ones left for far away places, until only a few were left as cattle farmers. They had to move more south as the whites took more and more land for their cattle. It was then that he and the remaining clans came together and decided to start a retribution war, in order to preserve and protect their heritage, and in the process to take all they can get from the intruders that were stolen from them. Many of the warriors and chiefs of old were killed by the whites in the attacks and villages burned to the ground, but with their demise, a new breed of warrior evolved over many moons. A breed that were taught and trained in the new ways, a breed far apart from the ways he was used to, a breed that lives in the villages of the whites, speak their tongue, know their laws and fight their kind of war with their kind of weapons..

One such warrior was Jima, son of his once friend and co-warrior, Tsamandiwe, who left for the land of the spirits a long time ago. This was the reason why he has been troubled for sometime now. It will be many moons now since Jima and his braves left for the Mountain of a thousand leopards. They should’ve being back a long time ago. He could sense the uneasiness in the village growing stronger by the day. Every time he passed Nandi during any given day, he could feel her eyes burning on him. She wants answers, and he himself cannot supply that. He sent Jima and his war party on this expedition. As chief of his people, he is responsible for their well-being, and the fact that Jima was like a son to him, is making the situation even harder.

So many nights they sat together, drinking brew and talked long into the night. They had received word that white people are on the move with plenty of iron horses, coming from the direction of the Mountain of the gods towards the Mountain of a thousand leopards. He instructed Jima and his war party to wait along the way between the mountains, and scout until they were sure where the whites were going. He was to send a scout to the village so that the rest of the warriors can prepare for an attack along the road to the River of the M’bali, the water god. He silently hopes that Jima did nothing dumb. Jima and Lunga are such good warriors.. They are his bravest warriors, and are blessed by M’linga, the great spirit of the mountain, but sometimes he wondered if they do not act without thinking. Jima has a will of a buffalo, and will stop at nothing. He is a clever warrior, and one day when Habekwa, the messenger of the spirit world comes to take him to his ancestors, Jima will most likely follow in his footsteps and become chief of the Kikuyu. Jima had won his spurs in battle many a time, and has proven himself to be a worthy chief. His only drawback is that his spirit is that of a rhino…. too fast and restless, but then again, his heart is that of an eagle…. very brave and strong. On the other hand, Lunga will always be there to guide the hothead. Dear good old Lunga. Soft hearted and always there to instruct Jima the right way, not that the latter always seem to listen to him.

Wasiri had a hard climb onto this mountain. He came here to seek the wisdom of Kgadi, spirit of the mountains. He now waited patiently for Kgadi. Up and down he trotted for hours, when suddenly he heard a soft shuffle behind him. He turned around and saw Kgadi, the secret witchdoctor and spiritual medium from the mountains, standing in the misty opening of a cave, his long wand in his hand. His little figure was bent with age as he stood there. The skin of a lion was draped over his barren shoulders, and he wearied a necklace of lion tooth around his neck. One can feel the mysticism around him.. His eyes were like a wildfire against his white hair and long beard. Along his hip he carried a leather pouch with powerful muti. Wasiri felt a tremble of cold ran through his spine. It was as if he was looking death straight in the eye, and he wondered if Kgadi could read his mind. Kgadi studied Wasiri for a long moment without making a single sound. To Wasiri it felt as if time stood still. Kgadi was like an icon to both the Sambura and Masai, a silent wise god-man who never speaks with anybody unless the person is from ancestral royalty. You have to be blessed by Thamegagu, the god of nature, to be able to ascent to the mountain of Kgadi. Nobody knows where he lives, or if he is man or spirit. All Wasiri knows is that Kgadi is very, very old.

From the time he sucked on his mother’s breast, the elders taught him about the mysterious man of the mountains. He also knows that Kgadi have great powers, and can speak with the ancestors. He rarely saw the spirit man, only once or twice in his lifetime. This time he had to see the spirit man, face to face. For seven moons he had to sit on the mountain, doing the ritual that would make Kgadi visit him. He had to endure the hot summer days, and the cold nights without eating, that is the way it was done. He had to purify his soul to be able to receive the words of wisdom. No other living man or woman has seen Kgadi, except those few chosen ones, and if they die, the new chosen ones takes their place. Instinctively Wasiri knew that this was the last time he will climb this mountain, therefore he prayed long and hard for the gods to send Kgadi to him. He had to make sure all is right as he will in due time walk with Habekwa the way so many has walked before to Thlokotsadi, place of the spirits.

Respectfully Wasiri bowed to the ground and remain kneeled. Minutes went by, with only the sound of the wind in the mountain tops.“ Stand up…. Wasiri Mtetwa….father of the Kakuwana tribe…’ a soft cold voice instructed him. He looked up, and slowly rise to his feet. “You have come to see me..” Kgadi said and pointed to Wasiri with a bony finger. Wasiri tried to speak, but the words somehow got stuck in his throat. Only a hoarse whisper came out, and he nodded.” Yes, o great spirit of the mountain…Wasiri has come to see you….” Kgadi turned his head sideways and looked at Wasiri as if he was in deep thought. “ I can feel that your spirit is very much troubled…. Wasiri Mtetwa…. why is it so?” he asked with a crackling voice, and his little black eyes narrowed questionly..

Wasiri looked down to the ground and hesitated for a moment. “No man can hide the truth from the great Kgadi, o spirit from the mountains. If I should lie, then maybe the great spirit of the mountain will take my soul. Wasiri, father of the Kakuwana tribe will thus then speak the truth. My heart is much troubled today. My spirit is restless like the eagle that flies, seeking a place for his feet to rest, but find none. Wasiri, father from the Kakuwana tribe sent some of his bravest warriors on a scouting party many moons ago after the feast of Lehmisempe, the keeper of the gates of Thlokotsadi. Among those warriors was the warrior Jima, the son of Tsamandiwe, who left us many moons ago for the land of the ancestors, and his best friend Lunga, son of Ramitshona. Now my trouble is this, o great Kgadi, that none of these warriors has returned. We have not seen them since they left. My spirit tells me these warriors do not walk this world anymore. The heart of Nandi, first wife of the warrior Jima, is crying for the arms of her husband. She wants to brew some beer and give it to her husband again, but up to now the pot of the beer was still cold. Can the great Kgadi tell Wasiri what happened to his warriors and in which world are they now hunting?” There was a moment of silence as Kgadi absorbed the words, then he lifted his head and looked deep into the eyes of the chief. “ Kgadi listened to the words of Wasiri, father of the Kakuwana tribe, and the words Wasiri spoke was true, so also the words of his heart. Kgadi will not possess the soul of Wasiri, father of the Kakuwana tribe, for he has much work to do before Habekwa, messenger of Thlokotsadi will come to walk with him on his journey to the spirit world. Kgadi now will tell Wasiri what happened to his warriors, and what is to be done.”

The elder reached slowly for his leather pouch, and opened it. He took some bones, leaves, hair, a tooth of a carnivore and bark. He then throws the objects on the ground and produces a gray powder. He ordered Wasiri to sit down and listen closely. With his hand, he then threw the powder onto the objects on the ground. He himself sat next to the objects. There was a blinding flash and smoke curled upwards. The stench of burned wood and hair filled the nostrils of Wasiri. Kgadi stared motionless into the smoke and mumbled something that Wasiri does not understand. He can see nothing except smoke, but knew that Kgadi is now making contact with the ancestors. He waited for Kgadi to perform the ritual of the gods, and saw him move into a deep trance, while the latter kept on mumbling strange words, his head jerking to and fro. His voice became faster and faster, his breathing quicker, until he shrieked in a high pitched tone whilst reaching into the smoke.. For sometime he spoke in a strange language and chanted words that Wasiri never heard before.

At last he stopped and stared into the smoke, now dwindling and slowly clearing up. He then spoke with flat unemotional tones to Wasiri. “ I can see Jima, the warrior, son of Tsamandiwe, standing among the hills of Thlokotsadi, place of the ancestors. His blood is calling for you. I also hear the blood of Lunga, son of Ramitshona and the other warriors crying for revenge. Their blood was spilled on the ground at the place of Sempehlinge, god of the dead, near the mountain of the leopard. Their spirits went to Sempehlinge, keeper of the dead, where they await your return with the warriors to free their souls, where it is kept by Sempehlinge, god of the underworld, until such time that their souls and bodies can be reunited.

People from the white villages spilled their blood with thunder sticks in an unequal battle. You must go now…. take all your bravest warriors and go to the place of Kgangalenge, where the eagle nests, in the direction where the great fire god sleeps at night and wait for the white people there…they will come to you. When you reached Kgangalenge, you must perform the ritual of Ramirake, protector of the warriors, so that the thunder sticks cannot harm you. You must protect your bodies with the clay of M’linga, for her tears mixed with the clay of Sankato, goddess of the earth, will form a combination that will make you invisible to the naked eye. You must then attack the iron horses and kill all the white warriors and their women. The kids you must offer as a sacrifice to Udukwa, Great Spirit of the heavens and overseer of Thlokotsadi. When you have done this, you must seek the bodies of your warriors and send them on the water of M’bali, together with their souls, to the gates of Thlokotsadi, where Lehmisempe, keeper of the gates, will unite the souls with their bodies. That way the soul of Jima, son of Tsamandiwe, Lunga and the other braves will be freed from Sempehlinge, dark spirit of the underworld, to go to Thlokosadi. You must defeat the people from the white village first, otherwise the spirits of your warriors will dwell this world forever, haunting you, seeking their lost bodies..” Kgadi ended and kept silent, whilst studying the expression on Wasiri’s face.

Wasiri was stunned. His heart was broken. He expected the worst, but still, by hearing the conformation of this he already expected, and the big task that awaits him, was a shock to him. Jima was gone, Lunga was gone, and now he must take their place on the battlefield. He will never again hear the voice of this boy and Lunga again. How are he going to explain this to Nandi, that she will no more sleep with her husband, no more brew some beer, can no more sit among the women of the kraal, for she is now being rejected by the others for not having a man to seed more warriors. Wasiri shook his head in remorse. This thing that happened was a bad thing. His body was too old for war, and he was in the dawn of his life. He is not the young warrior he used to be. This task that was being laid upon him by the gods was a great one. He will have to set up a meeting with the elders of the tribe to discuss the future actions and the mournining ceremony for the departed warriors as well.

The bodies of Jima and Lunga must be fetched among with the other dead warriors before Tatamase, the filthy god of the veldt, endeavor them, and brought back to the home of their people so that they can offer the bodies to M’bali, spirit of the river, to take the bodies to Thlokotsadi to be united with their waiting spirits. He looked at Kgadi. “ Must this be done, o great one? I’m an old man…I do not know if I will have the strength to do battle again” he asked hesitantly, looking for some mercy from the elder. Kgadi’s eyes narrowed in anger. Furiously he pointed his wand at the trembling Wasiri. “ How dare you ask such a question? Did you not hear what I have just said, Wasiri, father of the Kakuwana tribe? The spirits have spoken…. and you must obey them…go now…do not waste more time…. or else you will feel the brunt of the anger of the gods upon you, and the spirits of Jima and Lunga will be separated from their bodies forever, walking this world, seeking revenge …beware…. Sempehlinge is a bad one….a dark horse…be wise when you meet him….go now before it is too late. The spirits will render upon you the power to fight like a young warrior…do not question them!!!!!” Wasiri quickly stood up and bowed to the ground.” I thank the great spirit of the mountains for his wisdom….I will now go and do as you said”

He stood up, and realized he was suddenly alone. Kgadi disappeared into thin air just the way he appeared from nowhere. Wasiri looked around, but Kgadi was nowhere to be seen., only the wind whispered through the leaves of the trees around him. Wasiri suddenly felt drained and scared.” How can someone just appear and disappear at will…Kgadi surely must be a spirit” he whispered puzzled and turned to descend the way he had come down the slopes of the big mountain. He can see his village kilometers away to the far left side, just a little insignificant speck in the middle of the never ending stretched carpet of trees. As the sun went down to the western horizon, a lonely and tired old man slowly made his way through the relenting bushes to the waiting fires of his domain.

16. CHAPTER 12

LIMEY ON THE RUN

Sir Jeremy Bascombe sat in his chair, basking in the morning sun on his land in Leicester, England. He peers out of the window of his study when his son David entered the room. David is the only heir to the Bascombe riches and lands. His father, Sir Jeremy, was one of the secretaries of state, a sturdy patriot and nationalist. The Bascombe family name stretched far back in history as an aristocratic family, and one day David will be the sole proprietor of this long line of aristocrats. He does not always share his father’s believes, and many a time they were at loggerheads about political issues. David was more of a moderate person in his objective view of affairs, whereas his father only believe in the two extremities, black or white, no in betweens. David approached his father’s desk, noticing his father was in deep thoughts, not even noticing him.

He noticed a letter on the table and read the addresses origin as East Africa. He waited a few seconds.” Still troubled with the African development I see…?”he opened the conversation. Sir Jeremy looked surprised as he turned around. “ Oh, David…yes…yes how are you this morning…. did not even hear you entering…” David saw that his father’s full attention was not presently in the room. “ Fine thanks…what is this?” he replied and pointed to the letter on the table. Sir Jeremy shrugged his shoulders and waved his hand. “Oh…just another request from one of the settlers in Kenya for British help I gathered from the letter…didn’t have much time to read it carefully though….” Jeremy studied the contents of the letter, and questionly looked at his father. “ I suppose you are not going to reply…are you?” Sir Jeremy looked at David in surprise. “ No…should I…it is not a matter of our concern…is it… I dare say?” David bent forward and leaned with his hands on the table, his face a mere three feet from his father’s puzzled gaze. “ Maybe you should father…after all…those people was appointed by your government to that place, and if by anything you should give them a hand now when they need it…I should say”

David could see his father’s face turning red with anger. “ What are you saying young man…do you suggest that Britain are responsible for the chaos in East Africa?” David dropped his head and smiled. “ Yes my dear father…East Africa, India, Indonesia…South Africa…. Hong Kong…. Burma…name it…. the British are all over…you created that scenario, claiming and invading distant countries and setting up British protectorates….is it not so?” Sir Jeremy jumped up from his chair, his full attention now in the room. “ Now you listen here young man…I will not sit here idly while you accuse this country and Her Majesty of being invaders, it’s utterly preposterous and non sense.. David smiled again.” Ohhh…and what might be the truth, if I may ask, my father dearest?” he questioned laconically. Sir Jeremy nearly exploded. He grabbed the chair for support and stared in silence and total bewilderment at his son. “ Dammit…you young insolent pup…. how dare you talk to me like that? His lower lip trembled with anger. He also bent forward so that his face nearly touched David’s. “ You want the truth now…do you? Fine, now .you tell me who was the actual perpetrators….the English in 1905, or the Arabs in the 8^th century…or maybe the Portuguese in between the 15^th to 18^th century…..or was it the German and British missionaries in 1880…..you tell me?

David eyed his father. He liked to be at loggerheads with his father about this issues…and although the old man pretend to get heavily upset, he actually welcomed a good brush to let off the pent up frustrations.” Dad, it doesn’t matter how you look at things…the British always stuck their noses into the affairs of others, and most of the time it is for their own gain…there is no difference between the British Empire, the Spaniard Conquistadors, the Portuguese and the old Roman Empire…all of them forever digging their heels into other man’s land to conquer it…even our beloved church and royalty…just look what poor old Richard and his knights did with the Christians” Jeremy stared at his son on disbelief.’ My God man….just listen to yourself….where did you get that poppycock? It was not the British government that established links with the East African’s in the first place, but a privately owned company called Imperial East African Company to do some prospecting. in 1880- totally a private matter I should dare say….nothing to do with the empire. Only in 1895 did the British government establish Zanzibar as a British protectorate, and by agreement that Britain will render protection, investments and development to that government in exchange for land rights. That rights was only executed in 1905 when British, as well as South Africans inhabited the so-called White lands. We bought that lands specifically for those people” David shook his head.” No father…. you LEASED those lands from the Kikuyu, but SOLD it to the farmers, and that was the reason for the bitterness that erupted from the locals. You created the impression that it was a freehold sale…. you even went as far as uniting your protectorate with Zanzibar in 1920…now isn’t that establishing your foothold in a country that never was yours in the first place…conning the local government into giving away their land for free…lease one and get one free?” he said with a smirk.

Sir Jeremy was turning purple in the face, and loosened his collar.” By Jove…. that is the biggest lot of bull I’ve heard in a long time….” David stood up and waved his finger in the air.” Oohhh yes, and now let us see how far your biggest lot of bull was going and not forget the little move you guys made by conning the local government into ceding Juba land to the Italians…and in 1926 the incorporation of parts of Uganda to your little protectorate as well…and now, when the people YOU planted there needed your help…. you simply ignore them…. very good father…typical British royalty” Sir Jeremy was as white as a sheet with anger. “ It was NOT the British that created this situation, but more than ever the immigrants from India after world war one, and the influx of settlers from Pakistan and India after world war two that ignited the whole powder keg…nobody could contemplate or forsee a situation like this would present itself! Do you think the house of lords- or Her Majesty for that matter-is a bunch of gods or something? Before you go around with a story that is mediocar to say the least- get your facts in order my young man…” Jeremy calmly turned to his father.” Oh…. and I suppose it was the settlers that wrote the Devon shire White Paper to claim special land rights as well” he arrogantly retorted. Sir Jeremy was on the brink of explosion. “ Now you listen to me young man…The Devon shire White Paper only confirmed special position to European whites in the Highlands, BUT clearly stated that Kenya was an African country and that African interests must be paramount in case of ANY kind of conflict. Even when the Mau Mau’s started their terrorist activities in 1952, Britain suppressed them and forced them to talks in 1957. We warned the whites as far ago as in 1951 of political changes and that they must prepare to leave because our intelligence suspected and foresaw the coming uprisings. It is not a matter of ignorance on the side of Britain…. BUT rather on the side of the settlers, so don’t to come and give me a speech on matters that is out of our hands.” He replied out of breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief.

David rested his hands on the back of a chair.” So…my dear father…what you in fact try to tell me…is that your government now had enough of the riches from that country, and are abandoning all your settlers to fend for themselves…just like this country killed lots of women and children in South Africa in those horrible concentration camps with our dear Lord Kitcheners scorched earth policy to gain access to the gold riches in Johannesburg, and her Majesty queen Victoria turned a blind eye, like your annexation of India and Hong Kong? Sorry Father…your people has a too long history of plundering…. enriching the crown’s coffers with other people’s inheritance to sustain your own industrial machine- in fact- your whole little United Kingdom- our beautiful island- was build on rotten corpses!” He retorted and turned for the door. Sir Jeremy gasped for air. “ You…. you…you damn little bloody arrogant pup…I…I will wring your little scrawny neck…. you…” He was still stuttering in a rage in the middle of his sentence when David closed the door behind him and started whistling “ God save the Queen” Sir Jeremy breathed heavily and slumped into his chair, still wiping his forehead..” The young insolent pup…. blaming him for the mistakes of others…by Gawd…what is this youth coming to…. next thing they will try to save those poor bastards with their bare hands!” He looked at the letter that still lied on his table- and slapped it from the desk.” Bloody damn settlers…they are such a nuisance…. just like those Africans…. always tend to go in the opposite direction of the normal…. why in the name of God did he ever get involved with African affairs is still a mystery” he thought and took a shot from his glass of Whiskey to calm his nerves and lit his pipe..

David strolled down the stairs from his father’s study. He enjoyed the little brush with the old man. Just now and then he would walk straight up to his father and on purpose give him some cheeky lip to recharge the old man’s batteries…though sometimes the old man seems to be on the edge of busting a blood vessel. He then would leave the old man alone for a while to ponder, and then invite him for a pint at the local men’s lounge in town, sitting there for hours, pampering the old war horse whilst making him as drunk as beetle in a bottle…. coming home in the early morning hours, singing and stumbling into the mansion for a cup of dark black coffee to get their lines straight again… to mother’s dismay. The moment they entered the house, mother would give them one look, say nothing and disappear. The next morning at breakfast though, him and his father would hear it, loud and clear…on how irresponsible they acted and so on. Sometimes he would imagine he saw a glint in her soft blue eyes as she grilled them…. sweet old mother…she also knew father need a bit of boyish stupidity to divert his attention from his worries.. Mother always warned him not to upset the old warrior because of his heart, but David knew if the old tin horse do not get the chance to express himself, he would in any case die due to all the worries he carried with him all the time, …so why not let him get a little bit of excitement. David doesn’t care whether the old man swore at him, verbally abuse him, or even aim a swing at him now and then…he accept it in the spirit of the situation…actually prefer the old man jumping a bit now and then.

David felt uneasy; it was as if he was being urged by something these past weeks. He so much had the desire to go to Africa to see what it is like, but he instinctively knew that he must not even mention this proposal to father, that is if he does not want to see the old patriarch succumbing to a heart attack there and then. No, he’ll have to play this one safe, and organize his own transport without the old geezer noticing anything. He want to experience first hand what it is like in the dark continent, the dangers, the mysticism, the beauty and the unity with nature. They say the sun shines a lot, and it is hot as hell, not like in the U.K…. always rainy and miserable. No, ….he want to be an explorer…free…wild…something like a Livingston, which would be a jolly good thrill. He always dreamed of him living in a place like that…mysterious, untouched, all bush and no civilization. He loved the idea of being a renegade and do something like this alone…. a real rebel on the run…now that would give the old English pompous hierargy a real good old stiff upper lip.

He loved the thought and started to laugh out loud as he can imagine his father’s expression by receiving the news. His father will explode in all directions, down a whole bottle of Whiskey, and most probably send some kind of envoy to fetch him…. that is after he took David off the inheritance list…o boy…. he can already smell the sweet smell of adventure…. Dark Africa. He only had one problem with his daring plan, …Victoria, his childhood sweetheart. They knew each other since childhood, and became sweethearts when he enrolled at Oxford to study engineering. He liked Vicki…as he called her, but nothing serious so far, although she talked about getting married one day. Dad and mother on the other hand already are mentioning grand children, a house and so forth. Dave on the other side, managed to evade the issue so far, but can feel the pressure mounting every time they have a talk or at a gathering with Vicki’s parents. Dad wanted him to open a business in the famous Addely Street, but David had no intention to get stuck into a stuffy old office in a city right now…no, he is a man of open spaces, and father never could understand that he also had his own dreams.

Father want him to get married and start a family, but David felt he is not ready for that type of commitment as yet…. not at least for the next five or six years. He felt too young and would like to enjoy his boyhood life; after all he is only twenty-two…much too young to be hooked. No, what he’ll do is to walk straight up to Victoria and open the cards. He expects her to be broken hearted, that’s natural, but rather now than later on when things maybe will be more serious. If she will be able to wait for him for at least another five years, he then may be mature enough to take on the responsibilities of paternity and parenthood, but not now…. not just yet. He still whistled “ God save the Queen” as he strolled out into the bright morning sunlight towards the stables to mount his beloved horse and set things straight at Vicki’s. He felt uneasy about the outcome, the tears, the supposed to be in-laws and the rap he is due to get from his own folks, but like the saying goes…a man must do what a man must do…and David never was known to be a scared one.

17. CHAPTER 13

NUMISA

It was late afternoon when Jim Turney stopped at a local gathering place at Namanga. Dust hung in the air as the Jeep came to a sudden halt in front of the tavern. The setting sun threw a reddish glare over the bushveld. People appeared like ghosts in the dust that hung in the air, mixed with the glow. Jim watched some locals staring at him. He prefers to make his entrance as unnoticed as possible not to awake any sleeping dogs. He was tired of the long drive, as well as thirsty. Sweat was blotching his army shirt and dust smeared his face. He checked his watch…twenty past five already. A cold lager and a long hot bath would do the trick now. He hoped that the rebellion has not reached this part of the country as it did in the major strongholds so far. He looked at the locals standing around and gaping at him more out of curiosity than anger. He studied them for tell tale signs of aggression, but most of them appear to be lazily hanging around, awaiting the coming darkness. He grabbed his knapsack and stuff all the weaponry lying around into it. He checked that everything is safe around him, jumped out of the vehicle and went into the tavern.

The inside of the tavern was dusty and relatively gloomy. Jim had to wait a few seconds for his eyes to get used to the darkness. Locals were sitting around, discussing all kinds of local chitchat and whatever non-sense. Jim stood in the door, evaluating the situation first. When he was sure there was no opposition that met him, he strolled to a small round table and flogged into a chair. A young Masai girl dressed in a brightly colored tribal garment came to take his order. Jim can feel all the eyes burn onto him. The Masai girl smiled friendly and bowed her head in respect.” What can I get the master today?” she asked softly. Jim still eyed the other inhabitants a while before he answered.” One Lager and something to eat please” The girl nodded her head and disappears through a door behind the makeshift counter where a fattish black bar tender was eyeing him suspiciously. Jim somehow expected trouble, …….his senses told him that, but for now everything appear to be peaceful…like a silence before the proverbial storm. Jim was ready for anything.

He placed his weapons in such a manner that it was easily and quickly accessible, should the unexpected suddenly happen. After what may seems like only seconds, the girl appeared with a tray, the Lager and grub onto it. She smiled again and placed the tray before him and Jim noticed her full breasts as she bowed over his table. She wore no braziers and he could see the black nipples hanging like ripe grapes from his position. She seemed to notice his stare, and shyly smiled at him.” I hope the master will enjoy his supper…anything else I can do for the master?” He watched her as she leaned on his table…teasing him with her exposed breasts.” Yes….is there a room and a bath in this place?” he asked. She leaned forward.” For you….I will add all the extras….” she whispered and walked to the bar tender. After a few minutes of conferring with him, she returned with a key. She placed it in front of him, and leaned forward again.” Room five…see you later big man…” she taunted him with a cocky smile and turned around. Jim watched her swaying hips as she tended to another table. He noticed another longish fellow watching him closely, and then he stood up with a nod of the head and hurriedly scurried out of the tavern. Somehow Jim knew he would meet the stranger again this night.

Jim realized he was hungrier that he thought. He ate his meal and gulped the Lager down. After paying for the meal and the room, he bought a six-pack of Lagers and set off to that hot bath. He strolled to his appointed room and turned the key. The door was open already and Jim walked in. As he entered the room, he realized there was somebody else in the room. He quickly drew his Beretta and dashed to the bathroom where the sound was coming from. As he jumped into the door, gun at the ready, he was amazed to see his tub already full of hot water…with the Masai girl standing next to it. She smiled at him.” Oooohhhh…I like big men with their guns at the ready…” she laconically whispered and giggled. Jim gaped at her in surprise, and then lowered his weapon. He leaned against the door post.”O.K…O.K… Who the hell are you…and what are you doing in my bathroom” he questioned the still smiling girl. She walked around the bath with a measured pace. “ Oh…sorry…. I forgot to introduce myself…how forgetful…bad manners of me…my name is Numisa…I am the local chief’s only beloved daughter”

Jim shook her outstretched hand and took out a cigarette.” Now can the chief’s beloved daughter tell me why I am so honored to be served personally by he’s daughter…. especially in my private bathroom?” he asked curiously. She stood in front of him, playing with the string of beads around her slender neck.” Oh…. that’s easy…you see, my father owes about this whole majestic little town…. and as for the tavern…. it belongs to her majesty… I like to meet my residents personally to attend to their welfare.” Jim eyed the girl with a grin. She now moved close to him, touching his bulging crouch with her long nails. “………and if you should be in the process of trying to figure out why my fluent English……..I was educated at Harvard University before I came to settle here…” she whispered “…….isn’t it amazing…….. English was not all I was taught at that great old university…” she whispered again, giving his erect penis a soft squeeze and strolled out of the door. Jim stood frozen for a few moments before regaining his posture. He couldn’t figure out this little oversexed bitch. It is as if she is trying to lure him into a trap…. she is too easy…and that tends to make him uneasy. He remembered the sneaky fellow at the bar, and decided to keep his guard up, especially with this little tempting pussy. He closed the door, got undressed and slid into the tub with a groan of relaxation…his Uzi and Beretta cocked next to him on the bathroom table…just in case.

For the next hour or so, Jim just lied in the tub, recuperating and thinking of the past few hours. He wondered what happened back in Nairobi, and how’s Farouk managing. He wondered about his escape from here, the rebellion and this Numisa lady that suddenly popped up in his plans. “ Hell…life’s a bitch….everybody’s got shit sometime in their lives…an’ I s’ppose this one’s mine….” he muttered. He looked at his watch. It is nearly past eight. He realized he must hit the sack to be able to hit the road at five. He sat up, washed and got out of the tub. He closed the curtains, took his weapons and made for the bedroom. As he entered the room, he was stunned to see his little lady friend already waiting in his bed. In total amazement he stared at her blatancy.” Gawd lady…” he exclaimed. “ Does your name appear in the local telephone directory as well…because if it does, your snatch must be the hottest spot in town…it always seems to be open…!” he retorted. She just turned on her side and smiled.” And is your gun always at the ready…because if it is…. then you better start shooting…it always seems to be shut….” She casually replied. Jim couldn’t believe his ears. The damn teasing bitch!

He closed the door and threw his gear on the chest of drawers, carefully placing his weapons within reach. He peeked out of the window into the street to make sure this was no set-up- then strolled to the bed and ripped off the blanket. She was laying naked on her back , legs slightly apart. He looked at her. Her black fruit was tucked in neatly between her wooly thighs, and her stiff nipples told Jim she wants to be done. He shook his head. “ You really are a little sex hungry bitch,” he told her. She just shrugged. “ Stop yapping big boy…and start consuming…” He took her, turned her around on her knees, spreaded her legs wide and saw her yawning black entrance quivering and wet with expectation of his white service provider.

She moaned and wriggled her buttocks as if her snatch was searching for his starting point. “ C’mon big boy…my pussy’s waiting…show me what you’ve got! Sink that pistol of yours deep into my holster..” she teased him. He took his stiff heavy duty trench cutter, placed it in between her wet rolling black lips, and watched his white shaft disappeared into her slimy hungry ebony vagina. Numisa shrieked softly as his crowbar instantly stretched her love canal open. She grabbed the pillow with both hands and her nails dugged into the object as she felt his drill going into her. He felt the warmth of her body around him as her wands engulfed his shaft. He rammed his manhood into her snatch with all his power. She screamed of ecstasy, her long nails digging into the pillow, and he started to ride her love pot with everything he’s got, slamming his full length into her wide black entrance. Numisa dropped to her elbows and placed her hands against the wall to prevent her being thrashed against it by the heavy blows as Jim crashed his rod into her red meat. She arched her back inwards in order for her buttocks to elevate as much as possible to expose her tight cunt entrance for deeper penetration. Jim felt her snatch opening up as she presented her arse for him- and he started to really ride the black horse, grabbing her by the sides and pulling her into him. Jim started to rub her clit while he rode her- and Nomisa was now nearing her peak.

She grabbed her tits and started to squeeze her nipples. Like a zombie she started to slam into Jim’s gun backwards- until suddenly she exploded with ecstasy- experiencing one orgasm after the other. Suddenly he exploded as well, spurting streams of white semen onto her black wriggling crack, smearing it around with his penis head. She stood like that for a moment, her snatch dripping love juice and semen and then she fell sideways, whilst rubbing the semen onto her vaginal hair, pushing some into her fuck hole with her fingers. “ You really can use that gun of yours if you want to……….hand me a cigarette…” she said while stretching out her legs.

As the night lingered on, they talked, drank beer and had sex more than once. Eventually they fell asleep out of total exhaustion. It was in the early morning hours when Jim was waken by a soft shuffling sound. His instinctive nature made him react like a thunderbolt. His hand shot sideways and grabbed the Beretta. As he turned forward, he was just in time to see a black figure dash for the door. Quickly he jumped up and grabs his Bowie knives from his shed that hung over the chair. He dashed after the running figure onto the verandah. The intruder was about ten yards ahead of him. Jim judged the distance and the next instant a Bowie knife made a whirring sound through the quiet night. Jim heard the weapon slammed into the back of the running figure. He saw the figure turning around, machete in the hand.

The next moment the second Bowie found its mark in the staggering figure’s chest. Jim cocked the Beretta and took aim, but it was unnecessary, the figure plunged into the dusty street. Jim ran closer with the Beretta aimed at the intruder’s head. The figure were still, and Jim rolled him over with his foot………the stranger kept his promise to a visitation…and Jim his with a hot reception. Jim studied the still figure, but had no clue who it was or the motive for a attempted assassination. He made sure the attacker were in this world no more, and then strolled back to his room. He entered, and saw Numisa was still sound asleep…or at least pretend to be…. for from now on he will trust nobody again. He climbed into the bed and was awake until five, not trying to sleep anymore.

Morning found Jim packing his gear into the Jeep. The body of his nightly visitor disappeared mysteriously. Jim looked all around, but the street was empty…. no trace that there was even a body in the early morning hours. The sun already stuck his head over the horizon and there was a stir in the local settlement as the people started to get in terms with themselves. Numisa made him breakfast and black coffee…that was after they had fucked each other in the bathroom again for old times sake. They then had a bath together and she washed him, including a blowjob. She now came out of the tavern, stretching her body as if nothing happened. She was dressed in white jeans and a blue top. She looked at him. “ Must you really go now…?”She asked. Jim finished packing.” Yip…sorry ma’am…time is a virtue in these parts.” He answered. She walked up to him.” Can’t I join you…” Jim stared at her.” By Gawd lady…haven’t you got screwed enough?” She smiled.” I wasn’t talking about screwing……….I was talking about helping you along the way arse hole” she said in earnest. “ I know the area, the people…. their lingo…and the places to avoid. You will not be able to fend for yourself…let me go with you…you’ll need me” she pleaded. Jim shook his head “ No way baby…. you just stay right here and watch your tavern…. besides….I don’t want daddy and his tribe on my heels as well….cheerio…!” he shouted and started the jeep. “ I must say…Harvard really did a good job on you…keep it up!” he shouted and pulled away in the direction of the border. Numisa watched him as he disappeared between the buildings. She kissed her fingers and blew it in his direction.” Bye cowboy…see you soon….” She muttered as she turned around with a naughty smile.

Jim rode hard to Taveta. The sun was not very lenient to his body at all- and he tried to be at Taveta before one o’ clock. He wanted to rest and recce the area for his jump over the border. He had to reconnoitoire the customs and border, the strength of the guards, change of guards, routines, easy slipways, weak spots, etc. His route to Taveta took him over Tsavo national park. Jim rode hard and fast, and entered the boundaries of Tsavo at about eleven o’clock. He was busy riding over a ridge covered with tall savannah grasses- when suddenly he saw something that made him slammed on the brakes hard and fast. He got out of the Jeep and stared at a scene direct from a horror movie down below in the grasslands. What he saw made his stomach turn and his blood ran cold. Two Jeeps, attached to each other with a steel cable of about eighty meters to the rear bumpers, were driving parallel with each other- chasing a herd of game. As soon as they overtake the rear end of the heard, the steel cable then would slash into the hapless animals rear legs, causing the animal to trip and plunge into the dust with broken rear legs, kicking in agony. The passengers in the jeeps would then jump out, and shoot the poor animal, leaving it where it fell, and then proceed with their macabre game until the next unfortunate animal are caught.

All the time Jim could hear them howling with sadistic laughter as if they are busy with the most hilarious game ever. Jim stood there in silence for some time, observing the hellish and bizarre play and he could feel his blood started to boil. “ So…you are enjoying yourself…. now do you? Let us now see if you would still enjoy your little party if the animals get a little bit of equal help, you slimy bastards.!” he whispered, and took his knapsack, open it and armed himself with his Uzi, 9mm Beretta and Mills 36 hand grenades. He then kicked the Jeep in gear, and shot straight downhill like a bat out of hell towards the nearest Jeep. His eyes were icy cold and his mouth set in a thin line. Hate fulfilled his mind. Jim might not have been heaven’s pick of the week, but he would rather screw his mother than kill a helpless animal. He charged straight into the first jeep, turning just as he was about to collide with the vehicle. The occupants of the jeep were all white Americans, and the shock on their faces was obvious as they saw the madman in the jeep hopping and bouncing straight towards them.

The two passengers in the back saw the Uzi in Jim’s hand and immediately dived for their own weapons, but sadly were too late. Jim’s snub nosed messenger of death started to unleash a hail of bullets at short range, snuffing out their lives and send the three men sprawling over the Jeep’s edge, crashing into the ground. The other jeep immediately turned for the new threat, and came roaring straight at Jim, handguns blazing. Jim could hear the bullets whizzing past his head like angry wasps. He quickly pulled the pin of one of the Mills bombs, and hurled it into their direction. The Mills exploded just above their heads with a crackling sound, sending the occupants scattering for cover. The jeep bounced, then struck the other Jeep on the side-and rolled over, tyres groping for traction in the air, whilst the other Jeep yanked to a standstill. Jim slammed the brakes, jumped out and sprayed the bodies cold blooded with vigor. He could see the bodies react with spasms as the bullets slammed into them. Like a madman he kept on pulling the trigger until he heard the metallic “ click” of the Uzi’s empty chamber.

For a few seconds he just stood there, watching his adversaries bleeding profusely. He dropped his machine gun and slowly walked up to the dead men, kicking them onto their backs, their now blank empty gazes staring at him. He looked into their dead faces, but couldn’t recognize either one of them.” Damn poachers…not so cocky now..may you burn in hell…!” he hissed through his clenched teeth. He turned and walked to some of the animals that were still alive, but beyond help, and with his Beretta- ended their misery. He got back into his Jeep, and sat there for some time, studying the killing ground, scattered with dead animals and humans. He sadly shook his head.” So…after all…. It seems as if Tsavo is living up to its name…………place of slaughter……….if this is how it’s going to be in this lawless madman’s paradise…everything just shit and hair…every bastard for himself…O.K…then let’s then join the party…” he thought, and with that he walked up to the dead poachers, taking their guns and ammunition. He climbed back onto his Jeep, saluting the dead with two fingers.” Thanks boys…see you shit for brains again in the hereafter…” and he spun the Jeep towards the south to start a new era in his history….that of a mercenary.

18. CHAPTER 14

The convoy sped at a reasonable pace towards Kisumu. The attack on the convoy left everybody in silence. Two dead and one injured. The rain stopped and the convoy was in the clear at last. Frank held a prayer for the deceased and tends to the wounded Minah. Was it not for her bravery, more people could’ve being killed. In the heat of the battle, she saw that nobody was manning the Vickers, and she abruptly jumped onto the leading Bedford, grabbing the heavy machine gun with all her strength, and started to blast everything in front of her that moved. In the process she killed half of the attackers, but got injured by a spear from one of the attackers. The spear slashed into her abdomen, shattering some of her vital organs in the process. She was placed on a mattress at the back of Frank’s truck with Mary tending to her as good as the conditions allowed, but they fear that she will not make it all the way to Kisumu…. the internal bleeding is too provously, and cannot be stopped with their meager first aid kit. The bumping of the trucks on the unequal road did not help at all.

At the back of the truck Minah was sinking into a stupor, shivering with cold and the loss of blood. Shock was eminent and she experienced deliriums, speaking in a brabbeling kind of way. Every now and then she would open her eyes, and then sank into a coma again. It was an hour or so later when Mary knocked on the rear windshield of the truck. Frank and Dave both turned to her. They saw her indicating that Minah just lost the battle against death. A deadly silence fell inside the cabin. Frank stopped and halted the rest of the convoy. He waited until all the engines were cut, and after a few seconds of silence, announced Minah’s death to the others. He could hear cries of pain as the relatives react to the news. Sullenly he turned and mounted his truck again. They could do nothing until they reached Kisumu, where they can bury the dead and do the post mortem at the local doctor for the death certificates. Frank was in a very sullen mood as they drove on…thinking of the road ahead. They only left their farms… and did not even reached the danger zone…and already three are dead. He wondered how many of them will eventually complete the nearly three thousand kilometer trek to the south at this rate.

Baus was staring emotionless at the truck in front of him. Bitterness mingled with hatred filled him from the inside. Minah was his youngest sister. For the first time in his life he cried. He was used to killing, he had seen so many killings before…sort of getting used to it. It was not that he was a piece of stone, or heartless, but if you had to endure so many killings as he had, with the fact that he himself killed a lot of unknown human beings…as well as animals, then there came a point in your life that your system automatically just switches off. He was a hard man, he lived by the rule of the bush, he lived and spent most of his life as a game hunter in the bush…eat or be eaten, yes, that is the law of nature…but never, never could he imagine that one day death would visit someone so close to him. He always kept death at arms length, but couldn’t foresee it sneaking up from behind. Now, as he sat there, pondering, he experience a hatred he never had before…a hatred aimed at nobody in particular…. but at a system ruled by politicians that never understood the mind of a human being…politicians that came to power by force, whilst skulking behind others to do their dirty jobs.

He never understood the game governments were playing with people, never even bothered to understand what politics are all about. All he cared was to live his way of life his own way…never bothered anybody…but this…this that happened with his own blood today made things personal. All they wanted to do is to move to safer places, and that was unasked for to kill his sister in a battle that was cowardly…. and the poor bastards that tried to wipe out the convoy were merely matelotes, mere. puppets on a string to the damn politicians that are too lily livered to fight their own battles. Today many a human died…for what? It is unlikely that any of those power hungry hyenas up there will even know of this slaughter…or the players involved. As the thoughts kept on mauling through his tormented mind, the tears of anger and revolt came running down his cheeks.

He gripped the steering wheel with force and clenched it between his hands. Suddenly he couldn’t keep it back any longer. The raw cry exploded from his lips, and he sat there, shaking like a leaf for a minute or so. He looked at Len, who in silence gave way to the anger of the man next to him. He understands the pain. His wife was killed a couple of months ago whilst driving to Eldoret…ambushed by guerillas as well. He lost his wife and four-year-old son in the skirmish that developed. He got away…but just. He was shot in the leg, and had to hide for two days, then struggled fifteen odd kilometers to the nearest farm for help. Something died in Len that day. He looked at Baus.” I’m sorry…” he tried to say, but was at a loss for words. You cannot understand a person’s emotions, although you sort of understand the bitterness. Baus wiped the tears from his face with one hand. “ No…. sorry for that…it was not your fault………but somebody will pay for this day….I swear to God…….somebody will pay..” he said as his face drew into a mask of vengeance..

As the convoy drew nearer to Kisumu, the climate became hotter. The sun eventually decided to stick his warm head through the clouds. The convoy was on the road for nine hours now, and all realized that they would not make the rendezvous on time…at least not for today. They will have to spend at least two days at Kisumu to re-organize and do some damage control, get the funeral arrangements done, and link up with the others…that are to say if they arrived as scheduled. The convoy had so far progressed without further incidents. They had jumped the gap between the Keiro River and the Mara River down the steep slopes of the Great River Valley on low gear. Now, as the afternoon sun baked the harsh landscape dry, they nudged downhill to where Kisumu are stretched out, nudged between the Keiro River and Lake Victoria. Once called port Florence by the British, it was the most important lake port in the northeast extremity of Lake Victoria, which serves all the western provinces, and is linked with a railway line to Mombassa. It was an oil industrial city, and had a relatively strong infrastructure. The convoy slowly edged into the city with its partially dusty streets. As they entered the center of town, Frank stopped the convoy to get directions to the meeting point, which was at the lake’s edge.

After he got the directions, they set off for the port to meet Carr Hardley and Dr, Lowe. The town was a beehive of activities. The streets were packed with street vendors selling anything from bootlaces to Mopani worms. Hundreds of ethnical groups met here to bargain and sell. Business was brisk and people tried to get as much money as possible in fear for the coming rebellion. As far as the convoy proceeded, Frank and the others could see slogans on the side of the streets, the walls, and here and there a individual trying to make still another political point. The townsfolk gave the convoy the once over twice as they passed the hundreds of fruit and vegetable stalls. The streets were cramped with people and vehicles as everyone tried to get forward. At long last the convoy pulled up in front of the shop they were to rendezvous. Frank saw only the bowzer and car of Dr. Lowe in front. He reckoned maybe Carr was cooling his dry throat somewhere. The convoy halted in front of Mazir’s Fishing Tackle Shop, and he jumped out. As he walked round the nose of the truck, Dr. Lowe came out of the shop. He stood for a moment and stared at Frank and the convoy.” My good God Frank…I thought you never are going to show up…what kept you…and what in the name of heavens happened to your trucks?” he asked as he studied the gashes on the canvasses above his half cut glasses. Frank greeted him and turned to the vehicles. “ Sorry Doc…had a spot of trouble…. been attacked by Mau Mau gangs…three dead” he answered.

Doctor Lowe kept silent for a while. He looked up to Frank, and in a low voice asked the names of the deceased. Frank stood next to him. “ Susan De Beer, Minah Crous and Koos Bates….” He answered, looking to his feet. Doctor Lowe was openly shocked.” O my dear heavens man………where are the bodies?” Frank pointed backwards towards the trucks. “ In there…Minah died en route…I want you to organize for an autopsy…as soon as possible…I will arrange for the funeral…O.K with you doc? I don’t want the already stressed families to be burden with all the red tape as well..” The old man patted Frank on the shoulder. “ I understand son…. you go and book the others into the hotel….I will get somebody to take the bodies to my colleague’s consulting rooms. We have to move fast with the funeral….we haven’t got freezer facilities here…it will have to be done on the latest the day after tomorrow.” Frank looked questionly at Dr. Lowe. “ Why not tomorrow…. we haven’t got much time left…” Dr. Lowe shook his head.” Can’t be done…it will mean I will have to perform the autopsies tonight…and with no rest I don’t think I will be able at my age to accompany you on the distance you intended………….besides…we still await the arrival of Carr Hardley” Frank looked at him questionly. “ Carr’s not here…. but the bowzer…I thought…how…why?”

Dr.Lowe glanced at the bowzer, about twenty yards away. “No….Mtweni came in advance with the bowzer…..being here for two days now. We got news from the airport that Carr’s plane went down just on the other side of Meru three days ago…” Frank’s mouth went into a gape.” Was he…uhhh…y’now…” Dr. Lowe waved his hands as he interrupted Frank. “ No, no, no my boy…apparently some locals saw him go down…and saw him getting out of the plane with that mongrel of his…. they went towards Meru…the only thing that bothers me was that it happened before that big storm…. and he disappeared without a trace. We still wait for something to happen. Nanyuki sent a search party for him…. haven’t heard anything so far…. but something tells me we must just hang tight…. Somehow I expect that the rascal will show up here sometime…. we must not panic as yet..” and he waved Frank to book the others in the hotel so that he could proceed with the agonizing task of dissecting the bodies of his deceased friends he once knew.

Frank stood in awe for a moment.” Is God tormenting us by striking such misfortune? Are other people having the spoils of life while we get only the indigestion…this simply cannot be happening…first the rain…. then the death of three of his party…and now this!!!” He slowly walked up to Dave where he and the others gathered for a smoke and a chat. He shook his head as he walked up to them.” You ain’t gonna believe this…………” he said, and then told them of the new disaster that be felled them.” Damn nations………it is as if the devil himself would try anything to prevent us from crossing that bloody border….” Len exclaimed as he threw his spent cigarette butt on the ground.

The hotel lobby was overcrowded and smoky as Baus and Len entered. The desk attendant merely looked up as they approached the desk. He studied a thick register that looked as if it just survived both world wars and nearly did not make it. Flies lazily swooped down from the ceiling and crawled around an old packet of porridge stashed at the far side of the desk. The air inside the hotel was humid and reeked of old beer. Huge fans tried their utmost to cool the air, but only succeeded in spreading the immense heat more. People stood around in loud conversations and the stench of sweat nearly drove the newcomers to nausea. They stood for a few moments, staring around them. The attendant never even bothered to enquire their need. After a few moments Baus decided to try to get the attention of the humanoid that nearly impersonate a man behind the counter. He knocked on the counter and waved his hand in front of the ignorant being’s face, but to no avail. Again he tried by slamming hard on the desk. Except for one silly looking goon nearby staring at his impatient gestures -nobody else even took notice. At this point Len lost all patience, partly due to being frustrated, and partly due to exhaustion and the imputent ignorance of the little monkey in front of them. His arm shot like a bullet across the desk and grabbed the unfortunate soul around the throat. The poor bastard was so surprised at this sudden move that he dropped his glasses and his eyes nearly abandoned their sockets.

Len pulled him half way over the desk until their faces met with a few centimeters to spare. As Len now knew he had the full attention of the other individual, he hissed in the man’s ear that he better give a bit of attention to them otherwise there will be some sick leave in question. The little Swahili shook his head in acknowledgement and Len slowly released his iron grip around the man’s neck. Baus smiled wryly and leaned towards the attendant. “ We want rooms for twenty three people ….if you please” The attendant gawked at them in utter amazement. For a long time he stared at them in bewilderment, then his jaw slowly started to move. “ Tw…. Tw…. Twenty-three…did you say twenty-three…?” and he slowly pointed three fingers in the air. Both Baus and Len nodded in a friendly way. The attendant stared at them in disbelief, and then shook his head in denial. “ No…no master…can’t be done….we maybe have rooms for only five people…that’s all!” Again Len leaned across the desk, his teeth clenched between his jaws. “ Listen here you little mother fucker…. son of a cock sucking bitch…spawn of a jackal…I am tired…very tired…and very frustrated…I am in no mood to argue with a little piece of shit like you…either you create rooms, build them, buy them…or for that matter deliver them with your little black arse in traction…but I want rooms…now…. or I will break down this stinking dump you call a hotel, shit on your manager’s table, and wipe my arse with your little scrawny face…. comprehende?”

The attendant staggered backwards to avoid another choking display. He threw his hands in the air in dismay with watery eyes.” No man master! How can you do that? Look at all this people…they all want rooms…and all want it now…. and all want to kill me if I do not give them rooms…where will I get that much rooms…. we are booked full…. everybody is moving…you must understand this is the only hotel in the town…. what must I do…please you tell me?” Len strolled around the desk.” O.K…I will go upstairs and see to it that there will be rooms available pronto…” and he started to walk towards the stairs on the far right. The attendant gaped at him.” What are you going to do…master…. where are you going…master…no master…. no please noooo…do not do that please master…” He yelped as he realized what the big man’s intentions were. He jumped from behind the counter and ran towards Len, grabbing him by the sleeve.” Please master…. stop…please stop…O.K…wait…I think maybe I can organize something…. please stop master…do not throw other guests out of their rooms…. they will kill me…I will help you!!” he squeaked in shock and bewilderment.

Len stopped. He turned to the little man. “ Half an hour…. only half an hour…if not so…. some of your respected guests will have to seek other accommodation!” he warned and strolled to where Baus was standing with a laconic grin on his sunburned face, eyeing the attendant as he scurried up the flight of stairs. “ A real convincing type of character you are…. aren’t you Mr. Nice guy…?” he mentioned with a wry smile when Len joined him at the counter. Len looked at him.” Whad’ya mean? Those filthy bastards fucked this country, screwed the land and slaughtered our people…whad’ya expect? Feel like a beer?” Baus straightened up and rub his chin. “ Yip…’ suppose we’ve got some time to kill” They pushed through the crowd and head for the tiny room that serves as a private lounge to quench their thirst.

19. CHAPTER 15

Dusk was eminent as Carr and Rusty reached the outskirts of Meru National Park. Swarms of birds made their last run to the water holes before the sunlight fades. The smell of rain hung heavily in the air. Everywhere Carr can hear tadpoles chirping away happily. Now and then he can hear the snort of bigger animals as they engaged in mock-up fights. He approached the boundary fence cautiously as not to let his presence be too obvious to hungry predators He tested the air to make sure he stays downwind. The old fence was broken on many a place, and Carr wondered what the use was if the game could jump the fence whenever they so decide…. as well as the local poaching community. He lurked next to the rusted fence and eyed the vicinity carefully. Rusty sat down next to him as if he as well realized the urgency of stealth. Carr stared at the lights in the distance and wondered if Gambu would still be there. The vaccines still are nestled in the planes side luggage compartment, and were locked safety…or so he hoped. For some moments he just sat there…studying the bushes in front of him. Darkness settled in quickly, and Carr realized he had to move fast to cover the two or so odd kilometers to the village- keeping downwind all the time whilst restraining his over anxious mongrel. The light was still reasonably good for about six hundred yards or so before becoming dark patches. He climbed through the lame wires and watched the dog as it crawled underneath the obstacle. “ C’mon Boy!!” he urged the animal and set a stiff pace straight for the nearest perimeter fence of the camp.

Night owls introduced their presence with their ghostly “ whoooop” and silently swooped from tree to tree in their quest for food. The veldt became silent and a lion commanded his hunting party in a distance. Carr became aware of the crickets that stroke their violins undeterred all around him, welcoming the approaching darkness, only pausing for a moment as he came too close for comfort. A weak northeasterly breeze cooled his face as he stretched his legs for a faster pace. All the time he kept vigil watch all around him for tell tale signs of approaching danger, sudden disturbances of birds, Rusty’s ears, the grass and sudden movements. He realized how suddenly every object became a possible danger, how every shadow seems to come alive and how every dark patch became a predator when you are cautious. He felt the adrenaline pumping in his veins as his heart accelerates and his breathing became faster. Faster and faster he moved his legs, until the air burned his throat. Rusty kept a steady pace behind him as a hunting dog should- never overtaking him, but ready to warn at the slightest movement. After what seemed eternity he at last reached the outskirts of the camp. Exhausted he stumbled to the gate a hundred or so yards to the right and pulled the bolt out of the pole with effort. The rusted gate squeaked open what sounded like a hellish groan in the silent night. He observed a dim light in the building where the offices of Gambu were situated. Hastily he rushed to the door and banged it open.

Doctor Gambu Masirere looked up in surprise as his privacy was suddenly disturbed by the crash of his door as a dirty figure burst into his office. For a moment he just stared at the mud drenched figure. He slowly rose out of his chair and downed his glasses on his desk. He peered through the dim light at the figure of the man in the room. “ Carr…is it really you? My God man…what happened? Where have you been…the whole world is looking for you…good God…look at you? He rushed towards the wet exhausted figure. Carr just stood there, too tired to speak. The stressful day and turmoil at last took its toll. He flopped on the ground and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. Dr. Masirere opened the door and yelled to somebody in Swahili. He quickly rushed to the telephone and dialed the police station at Kisumu. Carr heard him telling the person on the other side of his arrival as if in a dream. A Swahili lady came into the office. Dr. Masirire ordered hot coffee and a plate of food for Carr, as well as dry clothes. After a long rest Carr struggled to his feet and with the help of the physician fell into a chair. Stuttering, he told his story of the crash, the storm, his ordeal and the hardships. Dr. Masirire gave him a towel and soap to go and take a hot shower.

Two hours elapsed since Carr’s arrival. He took a long shower, had a big meal and washed it down with a huge mug of strong black percolated coffee. He felt much better now that he was at least cleaned up and fed. He told Dr. Masirere of the vaccine and the latter ordered an orderly to drive very early the next morning to fetch it at the given crash site. Carr was tired, and he decided to hit the sack early. He and his friend sat talking for another hour or so, having a couple of shots of J & B whiskey before he was shown to his bed for the night. Dr. Masirire told Carr that he would be leaving for Kisumu the next morning to send parcels to Nanyuki and deliver Carr personally to meet the other members of the trek.

Carr slept like a baby, and woke up early the next morning in time to see a herd of springbok grazing next to the parameter fence, a mere few yards from his bungalow window. For a long moment he sat on the edge of his bed, admiring their graceful movements and the total alertness- even when at peace. He stood up and tapped softly on the window. The antelope froze in their tracks and stared at the window, in the ready to flee at a moments notice. The little ram snorted and shook his head, advertising his magnificent pair of curled horns. For some seconds they kept this posture, and then when certain no immediate danger existed, proceeded with their grazing to give the lambs time to drink and frolic. Carr smiled and turned for the door. Rusty was lying on the little carpet in front of the bed, on his back with his paws wide open, exposing his white belly. Carr strolled up to the dog and slapped him on the side of the thorax. “ C’mon ye lazy critter…time to rise and shine.”

He strolled out of the bungalow with his towel and toothbrush in his hand to take a nice cold shower. To him there’s nothing like an ice cold shower in the morning to refresh him from the night’s drowsiness. His muscles ached as the stiffness tortured his ligaments. As he strolled towards the ablution blocks, he saw Dr. Masirere coming from the far side of the compound. Dr. Masirere saw him and waved.” Hello Mr. Hardley…. finally decided to surprise us with your presence?” Carr looked at him in surprise.” What the hell do you mean?” Dr. Masirere came up to him and stared at him from head to toe. “ I must say you look a lot more human than the creature I saw crawling into my quarters last night…Gawd…I thought it was the green monster from the slimy pit….” Carr watched him with a cynical expression in his face. The old man was nearly all gray up to his little beard. The old Kikuyu man and he have been friends for almost two years.

Dr. Masirere was one of the few respected vetenarians left in this god-forsaken world and very dedicated to the enhancement of Kenya’s wildlife. He looked much younger than his sixty odd years in his khaki safari suit and white jacket. “ Sorry old-timer…. but I have been up since four…hanged around to wait for you slumber heads to rise…” he exclaimed. Dr. Masirere chuckled and shook his head. “ Four you say…as I can recall…now let me see…my assistant have been twice in your room to fetch your dirty clothes and take coffee…. and according to her…you were snoring like an ox…and then as I can recall again…. we already packed the Land rover for the trip to Kisumu…and I can’t recall noticing the early presence of Mr. Hardley that has risen at four..” Carr knew he was caught by the old wise crack. Dr. Masirere took him by the elbow.” C’mon…. let’s get you some breakfast” As they walked towards the kitchen, Carr noticed the deep worry in the old man’s eyes. “ I saw the fences are ruptured way yonder…maybe animals?” he started the conversation to get the old physician to open up. Dr. Masirere clenched his hands behind his back, staring at the ground.” My friend…” he said slowly and stopped, staring with narrowed eyes at the horizon where the sun steadily begins to show his orange glow behind the still dark mountains. “…it is not the fences that bothers me……not at all……..it is what’s behind those fences…..the sad story that led to the broken fences- that troubles me. That broken fences only represent the broken hearts of my land….my people…their hopes and dreams…and my animals. It only represent the failure of the government…the failure of the international community to stand up and aid us in our darkest days of distress…the lack of understanding the way of the people…and the carelessness of the leaders to notice the destruction of the beauty of this land and it’s resources. Carr stood in silence. He knew there is a valid point in the words of the wise old man.

Dr. Masirere put his hand on Carr’s shoulder and sighed. “ Carr…we know each other for quite a while now…. we worked together…drank together…. fought the poacher together…and spent a lot of prime moments and laugher together…but that was in the past…there was money and some kind of hope to go on…. an infrastructure to work with…somebody that cared…now…. there’s nothing…just a void…replaced by looters, war…. murder…emptiness…. fear…. and ruptured fences! God, we don’t even have money to keep the staff going…. they haven’t been paid one shilling for the past five months now…we pay them with the little food and shelter we have. They have no where to go…. they only hope, like the rest of us that someday things will come right again…but that may take quite a while still…. and in the meantime…we must live…families to feed…me…I’m an old man…. but what about my grand children…their children? What about these gorgeous animals…the trees…the land…what will happen to them my friend…they are the first victims of the wretched poachers. They slaughter every night…. merciless…I could hear the gunshots at night- the sound of bullets hitting their targets-and there’s nothing we can do…. no rangers…no money for guns…petrol for the vehicles…. Ammunition…. nothing!. My work here is far from done…but I ran out of resources…my medicines are finished…equipment out dated. Broken…cannot be repaired or ordered. The vaccine you brought was from a donation by one of my old colleagues…but that’s the last…it’s over Carr….over,..finito…finished…so….how and when will we repair the fences? Those fences only represent the true condition of this lost country” Dr. Masirere looked at Carr’s face and paused for a moment to wipe the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “ Carr………The trip to Kisumu…I’m not coming back. I couldn’t get myself to tell my staff that has been loyal to me for so long….it will brake their hearts. I decided to go to Mozambique to work there at Gorongoza game reserve for another five years, and then retire…it is better that no one knows…O.K” he ended, wiping his watery eyes with the bleached handkerchief he produced from his shirt pocket. “ Come…let us go and eat before we leave…”

The morning sun found Carr and the old doctor sixty odd kilometers to the west of Meru. The Land rover bounced along the tiny gravel road. Diesoline stench hung in the cabin and the engine-revved every time it clawed it’s way up the slopes. For a long time now the two men sat in silence…their thoughts with the road ahead…the uncertain future…and the possible dangers. Next to them the old Phillips portable radio is playing “Rock around the clock” of the late Bill Haley and the Comets. Dr. Masirere looked at Carr. “ Good music that eh..?” Carr only smiled. Again the doctor looked at him. “You know jazz……an’ blue grass, don’t you?” Carr shook his head in denial. “ Nah…in the outback we dunnah hear so many songs…. mostly country…too far for radio waves….mostly “The Voice of Australia”….an’ they only swag one type of music” The old man gave a chuckle and shook his head.” Man…I don’t even stay in a big city…but brother…jazz…. bluegrass…now that is my kind of wailing…did you know it started in the ghettos in America?” Carr pulled his face.” Ah had enough of them yanks in the war…no need to listen to their type of culture…no way not me…give me the good old Australian folk songs anytime…and a hot woman…. now that’s my type of wailing”

The old Swahili watched him in silence. His voice became earnest. “ Carr my boy…you ain’t getting younger…now you listen to an old black fool…. an’ you listen good. You better go out there and get yourself a mighty decent woman…you are too loose in your life…look at you…what have you got except that old scrap heaps you call flying machines? For shit sake man…. even that stupid mongrel back there are better off than you…. at least he’s got a steady bitch! You are getting long in the tooth…and when you are an old has been…an’ full of shit…who’s gonna look after you…. your dogs? No way man…. they will be pumping daisies long time then…an’ I don’t want to hear any sarcastic lip either. Only a good woman will set you on the right path. The Lord made man, but in his Almightiness he also create woman to be the companion…no matter how the hell they can babble” Carr smiled and turned to the doctor. “ Now as I see it….the great prophet himself has been digging for what…..nine years without a new spade…..an’ he’s doing fair dunkum ah say….so …..What is the difference between Moses and the crowd?”

The old Swahili eyed him with make belief anger.” Now would you listen to Mr. Clever himself…as I see it…. the prophet has seven legal offspring…and they did not arrive with the cows one evening. Ma’ old Sebongile was a hard woman…. sometimes she drove me crazy…. but I miss the old girl…. and I was legally married. It is not my decision that she went to the Good Lord before me. When a man belonged to a woman for thirty-three years…it is very hard to adapt to another…. woman type of adoption y’know. I miss my old wife…. God bless her soul, but you…the only humans you know that remotely resembles womenfolk are the bloody hoars that doesn’t give a shit about you…. just your money. Tell me the name of one decent girl you know…. c’mon…just one that hasn’t got a ranking in a bar?” Carr thought about this real hard. The old timer was right. He cannot think of any decent girl he met recently, or ever for that matter. The only time he knew a decent girl was back in Australia before the war. She used to stay a couple of miles down the road from his parents…Mary Lou Warney he remembered, but she was only fourteen at the time. Most probably with his reputation she turned out to be a first class hoar as well!

The old man laughed.” See….’told ya” He took out a harmonica from his jacket and played some unknown melody. Carr could see the old timer was far away in memory lane as he concentrated closed eyed whilst cuddling the instrument. The old man stopped as he realized Carr was watching him interestingly. “ One of my favorites…me and the old girl’s…Quincy Jones that is…aaah…. beautiful song. You know, my late grandpa used to say…………” and he suddenly stopped. He never got to complete the sentence. Carr saw his eyes widening. He stared in front of him, a strange kind of gurgle escaped from his lips as he struggled to gasp for air. Carr couldn’t figure out what was going on. Suddenly the old man slumped forward on the dashboard. It was then that Carr saw the hole in the windscreen in front of the old man’s body, and the horrible truth slammed through his brain. He also saw the red blood trickling from the doctor’s chest onto the seat. Bewildered Carr looked around and saw a green army truck next to the road on the left front side. It’s occupants aiming at the Land rover with semi-automatic guns. Carr realized it was an ambush. He was numbed with shock. He grabbed the wheel, jump on the old man’s lap, and slammed the Land rover in third gear, tramping the accelerator flat on the floorboard. The Land rover shot forward like a bewildered racing horse.

Carr leaned over and took the old German Luger from the door holder. With one hand on the steering and the other holding the gun, he shot straight towards the other vehicle. As he came in short range of the latter, he could hear bullets slamming into the body of the Land rover. He saw the windscreen flew into pieces as multiple bullets found their mark, zipping past him like angry wasps. “ You damn fuckers…now you will shit!!!” he growled, and with his right hand out of the window, start to pump one shot after the other into the vehicle’s occupants in front of him. He saw one…. two…three bodies crumbled as his bullets ripped into them. The Land rover shot past the truck like a bucking stallion, and Carr aimed for the tires as he passed. He fired a couple of shots into the tires, and swerved zigzagged to make it harder for them to hit. He then brought the Land rover back to the road and pushed the vehicle as hard as he could. He saw the other vehicle getting smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror, and instinctively knew he had hit a tire or two smack on, otherwise they would’ve been in hot pursuit by now. He could still hear distant shots being fired and bullets whizzing past him, but the range are now counting against their attackers.

Carr drove for another ten minutes to make sure he is out of dangers way, then turned into a thickish foyer to attend to his friend. He stopped and pulled the doctor out onto a grassy patch. Hastily he opened the old man’s shirt, only to see that the latter was past any human help. The bullet ripped through the old man’s sternum and went out the back. Carr saw the steady stream of blood that were pumped out of the old timers body, and instinctively knew the aorta has been shot to pieces. His old friend and companion were dying. He took the old head in his hands. The eyes flickered open, and a smile appeared on the doctor’s lips. Blood slowly curved down the corners of his mouth. He coughed a couple of times. “ I guess…(cough)…I guess I will stay here after all…hey…(cough)…this forsaken place just would not let a man go…. now would it?”. Carr told him to keep quiet and save his energy. He told him he would get help somehow.

The old man looked him in the eye and shook his head. “ Carr…Carr…you little shit…. don’t you think if I told you you’re a fool…you must take me for one. I know I’m not leaving this place…(cough)…but you…you…you must get that woman…. and…. and get out…. promise me you will…(cough)…promise me” Carr shook his head. “ O.K you silly old bastard…. I promise…..now don’t you die on me you old bugger” The old man coughed heavily and blood spatted onto Carr’s shirt. “ Carr…you must…. must go now…leave me here…c’mon…go on, I’ll be O.K. I wonder if I will see the old lady now…I wonder…you just do what I asked you…I ever told you I was in black magic….(cough)….so if you disobey my order……I come back for you…..must punish you according to our belief……..it’s a black man’s thing y’know…..revenge and all that crap…..(cough) Carr took a piece of T-shirt in the back of the Land rover, and dressed the wound that by now bleeding profusely.…….Carr…….did you know that heaven is a beautiful place….green valleys….bright light……..Carr….can you also hear them singing…..not jazz….oh…but so beautiful…….y’now what Carr……..I think I can see my old lady…….damn……she looks so beautiful…….that same dress she wore on our first night out…..she’s so beautiful….so beautiful…..Sebonge….is that really you?.”

A smile spread across his old leathery face, and with a soft sigh the old man’s eyes closed tiredly for the last time. His head slowly rolled to one side. Carr shook his head; he knew his old pal is now embracing his lovely wife somewhere lovely up yonder in the big national park in the sky. He closed the latter’s eyes with his two fingers and gulped on the knob in his throat. “ Bye old timer………I hope that you will now find peace in your soul…and no fences to bar your way anymore…. good-buy me old mate” He picked the deceased doctor’s body up and placed it in the back of the Land rover, and rolled a blanket around it. He then placed the fallen harmonica into the old hands and arranged it crossways on the bloody chest. “ Now you can listen to Quincy Jones all you want me old mate…maybe even play in his band I recon as ghosts go…I dunna’ recon anybody will ever disturb ye again…. send ma’ regards to whatever her name is…. chao old pal” He wrapped the blanket around the old doctor and lifted his eyes heavenwards in a small prayer. “ If there’s a God up there somewhere…I dunno…never visited there…but the old man thought so…….then will You please see that he get some rest……show him what to do….I really dunna know what You do with new arrivals….but he was a fair duncum down here….never did no harm to anybody…….an’ o ya……..I know it maybe will not be in your line…being a God an’ all that……the old geezer wan’ me to get a wife…..will you…I do not mean to be blunt or disrespectful ….…. .respectful that is….send me a wife….just to keep the old goat off my shoulders with that magic thing….that black man’s thing ye’ know….thanks all the same….amen” and he clambered into the Land rover, started it, and set foot for Kisumu.

CHAPTER 16

The old oak was throwing it’s shade far over the roof of the church. In the shade Agnes took the pail of clean water and threw it over the soapy Vauxhall she just had washed. She was clad in a pink T-Shirt and white shorts. She hummed “ The Blue Denau” from Johann Strauss as she wiped the metal body. Her own body swerved on the rhythm of the song. She felt elated and happy. Since their encounter in the room, she noticed John being very friendly…nearly childish…trying to help her with this…help her with that…and generally just be…. well …helpful…as helpful as a man in love can be. She like that, and adore his attention. At last they can react as true lovers…not the stiff clergy folk. She thought about the future….it appears to be quite..well..exting…him being opened up, she being fertilized…she hope, and everything going just according to plan.

She was so evolved in her daydreams that she did not notice John as he approached her from behind. The first time she realized he was there, was when he softly embarrassed her, and received a soft kiss in her neck. Goose pimples spread all over her entire body, sending her nipples to erection. She giggled and kissed him on the cheek. “ You mustn’t do that…I’m ticklish” she reacted playful. John kept silent for a moment. When he spoke, it was soft and low toned.” Agnes…I thought a lot this past day. If you want me…I mean…really want me…I want to ask your hand in marriage…. now I know it appears to be a little fast…you can refuse…I mean…” Agnes couldn’t believe her ears. She slowly turned around. For a moment there was absolute silence. She looked at him in surprise. “ Could you repeat what you just have said” she asked. John really appeared to be uncomfortable now.” Well….I asked…uh……well…..dammit…I want you to be my wife…” She burst into a loud giggle. “ What…did I hear you correct…. you, a priest…you want to marry me…a nun…really…so sudden…and so straight…YES…yes and again yes again, you stiff old penguin…I will!!!” and she grabbed him around his neck, and they kissed for quite a while.

She suddenly pulled back.” What about your oath…I mean…. being a clergyman and all that…. what about the church?” John pushed her away slightly.” That ……that was the other matter I wanted to talk to you about…I forwarded my resignation to the Cardinal…I resigned!” She watched him in shock.” You did whaat? John…what are you going to do…I mean it wasn’t necessary because of us….no John….you can’t be serious….” John just smiled. “ My girl…you cannot force me to do anything…. all men has their own will…. I did it on my own…and would’ve done it in any case…with or without your presence…the church here has died…. look around you…no money, congregation or anything. We are done here. You can stay on if you want to. I am going to pack up and leave for Angola…. missionary work…. less stressful” She shook her head unbelievingly. “ I cannot believe what I have just heard…and do you think I will let you leave on your own? No way my stiff gorgeous hunk…. I’m resigning as well….I am going to join you…whether you like it or not…and don’t try to stop me……this place sucks in any case…..when are we leaving?” John smiled happily. “ My dearest Agnes…are you sure you want to do that? Life can be difficult you know…. it’s a harsh country out there? She looked at him. “ Any harsher than for you?” He pressed her hand. “ My dearest….I am a man…..you a woman…” She looked him straight in the eye. “ John….If you go…..I go…if you suffer….I suffer….I want it that way…..and besides….after our little escapade last night…….who knows….maybe there will be a little chappie that really would like to see his or her father…just maybe.” John shook his head. “ You drive a hard bargain…. but O.K…if that’s the way you feel…I cannot stop you.” She shook her fist in the air.” Yess!!! When do we leave?” He stared to the clouds.” The day after tomorrow.” and he pressed her against him.” Thank you “ he whispered, and kissed her. Hand in hand they strolled to the river with a song in their hearts.

John and Agnes packed the whole night. They drank coffee, and tested their newfound love. Both of them worked with vigor to get everything in shipshape to be complete before dawn. As the sun greeted them early the next morning, they were finished, but exhausted to the death. After a good shower, the returned to bed together for the first time in their lives, and slept ‘till half past eleven. John then sent the courier to the cardinal with both his and Agnes’s resignations. The rest of the day they just wrapped up last little chores and went to bed early at eight that night.

As the old clock struck three the next morning, they left for the border town of Taveta, totally on the other side of the country and also past some dangerous stretches to Tanzania. The old Vauxhall was packed to the hilt, and John only could manage a mere sixty miles out of the old wagon, but they did not care. Both changed their garments for bush gear- khaki shorts and shirts. They took all their savings and kept it in the glove compartment of the car- seven thousand pounds in total, a lot of money in this circumstances and times, but they couldn’t leave it in the bank out of fear that the new hierargy might freeze their assets. They realized the danger and risk of being hijacked or robbed, but that was the calculated risk they had to take for their freedom. John took safety precaution by purchasing a semi automatic gun and two pistols- one for each of them from the local black marketers. He showed Agnes how to use the weapon, and also purchased ten boxes of automatic 9 mm ammunition, as well as eight boxes of 9mm handgun bullets. When being questioned by Agnes in regard to the lots of guns and ammunition, he merely replied:” I trust in God for protection all right….but this is just for in case the devil decided to sneak through the back door, you know………as he did in the paradise.”

When asked if he was afraid he might run into the devil, he again replied:” No…I don’t think so…I believe he is too busy at this moment…but not his henchmen, and at the moment they run amok all over the country!” John estimated that they would be able to cover at least two hundred miles per day in these conditions, that’s to say they do not experience any breakdowns or unnecessary delays. At night they can sleep in the vehicle. They have packed enough food to last them for at least two days, but after that they must replenish. Water is no problem, for they can refill at the various villages in between, if no Mau Mau activities exist. Their only problem will be spare parts if the car should have a breakdown en route. He packed two army ‘ jerry cans” that contains twenty liters each full of gasoline on the roof, covered with a canvass, which should add another four hundred kilos to the full tank they possess. In total they should at least cover nine hundred kilos. The only detour will be around Mt. Kenya- the rest should be a straight path. John had manufactured a hook for towing to enable them to hook up the trailer they had bargained for from a Indian dealer for fifty pounds.

Although the windows were open, the sun was getting bitterly hot in the car. Sweat formed on their foreheads. John plugged the small hand fan into the lighter socket, but that only seems to spread the building heat around the car. Agnes decided that she couldn’t take it any more, and took her shirt off, keeping only her pants on. Her stark white breasts formed a contrast with the brown tanned skin around them. John looked at her well-formed breasts with the big round nipples. He started to feel aroused again, but suppress the feeling for there’s no time for eroticism now- time awaits no man. Agnes took out a towel and wiped the sweat off her breasts and armpits. John watched as she heaved the one, then the other soft breast to wipe underneath. Agnes saw him gawking at her body, and knew he admired her fullness. “ Do I detect a pair of hungry eyes staring at a naked lady?” She tempted him. He swallowed hard. “ You have the most voluptuous beautiful body I ever saw” he replied. She stroked her one nipple with her nail. “ You like them?” she asked with a smile. John blushed and nodded. She cupped her hands on both her breasts. “ You just see that we reach a safe spot every night…and they will be yours for the takings” she teased him. She then laid backwards with her naked breasts up heaved and closed her eyes to get some sleep. John stared at her. “ She possess the body of a goddess” he thought by himself, and concentrate to deflate his erected penis.

During the day it was monotonous traveling. The country was to say the least, very boring around the eastern parts. Only flatlands and savannah, with the occasional disturbance of flat thorn trees. The little road they used was at least not very bad, and they could on some places push to eighty miles an hour, but then again they had to slow down for potholes on other parts. When the clock struck three, they covered about two hundred and thirty kilometers, faster than John expected. The area was now all but grassland. In the far distance were some trees, and John could see the mountain ranges far to his right. They will have to spend the night under the open sky.

Agnes slept until about one thirty. She then opened the hot flask and offered John a cup of tea. They ate some rusks with it, and Agnes smoked a cigarette, not scared anymore. John turned to Agnes.” I think we can call it a day. I’m going to pull off next to the first tree available, and we can set up camp for the night” he exclaimed. Agnes looked around.” You don’t suspect any unwelcome guests…now do you?” John shook his head. “ Nope…this is way too far for Mau Mau activities…nobody lives around here for hundreds of kilometers to intimidate. Also there is no game here…so, as for hungry predators, except for the odd lonely jackal or so, we ought to be reasonably safe here. In any case…the tall savannah grass ought to hide the car from preying eyes” he concluded. Still Agnes did not seem to feel totally on the safe side though. “ John, I would feel better if at least one of us stays awake whilst the other sleep, that way at least one pair of eyes will be on the look out…don’t you think?” she questioned. John thought for a moment. “ O.K…if it would make you feel better, I will sleep the first watch until twelve, and you can sleep the second. Usually, if something is bound to happen, it will happen in the early morning hours. It is full moon tonight, so it will be relatively easy to spot anything in a distance…you happy now?” he asked with a smile. She nodded. “ Better safe than sorry” she casually exclaimed as she stretched her legs.

As dusk approached, the Vauxhall was parked underneath a overhanging thorn tree. Two trails marked the way they used from the main road to their resting place for the night. John took out the primus stoves and the cooler box with their meat supply. Agnes had a pot on one of the primusses with mealy meal for porridge. They spread a blanket on the ground to sit on while John placed some small steaks and sausages in a tin pan. Tonight’s meal will consist of sausage, porridge and bake beans. Coffee water will be boiled on the stoves. Although dusk was relatively close on hand, the air was still very warm and humid. Agnes still walked around topless, and John decided to join her in this outfit. He admired her beautiful body, and to see her like this in the cradle of Mother Nature, really creates the most perfect picture for him.

While they sat waiting for the food to be at the ready, they sat on the blanket, talking of the past couple of day’s adventures. Agnes looked at the primus, and then deeply in thought she said: “ John, there is something that I wanted to ask you about…. something that interest me” She look at him questionly. “ Yes?” he answered while turning the meat around. She scratched with a piece of grass on the ground. “I don’t want you to take this personally…. but how is it that a man of your caliber and background landed up as a priest in this part of the country…and furthermore get involved with a girl like me…have sex…. and resign your life’s dream to take on something you never did before…it sounds so confusing…what will your parents say when they receive the news…and is it really your own choice…. or was it because of the other night?” John sat for a while…. pondering, and then he slowly spoke:” Agnes…. my beloved darling…life has more to offer than being a priest. How you conduct your life through the various stages is entirely up to one self-God gave us that free will to decide upon ourselves the way we want to live. The choice is simple…. either be a traitor or a hero…there’s only two ways to go…you can either please some people all the time….or all the people some of the times….but never all the people all the time. So, to conclude…. my choice was twofold…I wanted to be an adventurer for once in my life….I wanted to expand my horizons…and in my quest for perfection and enhancement of the stages….you came into the picture. I felled in love with you, but certain bonds had to be broken…bonds laid down by not so much God as society itself. Yes, some of the rules was broken by me in the face of my Creator…as John warned in the good book…. but I never foresaw that love, the greatest gift of all, was to be introduced to me towards a woman. I had to decide…. either I remained a priest, and devote all my energy to one secluded group of people…or divert on another road and still have many opportunities to serve God in other ways. I agree that I sinned against the scriptures by having sex with you without being married…the sin of the flesh…. and believe me…that tormented my soul…but also do I realize the essence of being. I was after all created a male…and you a female…and that also led to me asking you to marry me…. not just for my love for you…but I made an oath to God that I will not neglect you and will marry you with your consent and accept paternity if God so decide to bless me with offspring…yes…even a priest sometimes has the luxury of battling it out between the flesh and the spirit. ……That the answer you want?”

Agnes stared at him open mouthed. That really sounds complicated the way you explained it…mixing the scriptures with human emotions…that really does…but I am glad that when completing the survey of your inner self…we are at last sitting here…and next to each other…the other stages…. we’ll take them as they approach…right so? You must just promise me one thing…. that when I am down…you will be there to pull me up…. and I will be there to pull you up when you are down…right so?” John shook his head and laughed. “ Agnes…it doesn’t mean that when I broke one rule…. I automatically will loose or abandon my other entire firm believes…. and on your promise…right so!” he said and pulled her closer.

They kissed long and passionate, until John flew up to take the pan off the stove where the meat was starting to burn. Agnes laughed out loud and tended to the porridge. “ Typical male…. the first time you cook for a lady…you go and burn the food…. what did you do all the time without me….if it wasn’t for woman….who would sow you poor clumsy male’s buttons?” He looked at her. Agnes…you kept me away from the food by seducing me…. and if there were no woman…we males needn’t wear any buttons” he retorted laconically. She shook her head. “ Typical male…always at the ready with an answer” He pointed his finger at her. “ Yes…and typical female…always at the ready with a question…somehow…. this setup will work…me acting like a male…and you like a female…at least I think so” She slapped him on the backside. “ John….I love you” He turned to her…..pulling her on to the blanket. “ I love you too…. too much for my own good” She looked deep into his eyes. “ Show me…” she softly demanded. The night again dragged on, for John and Agnes was engaged in more lustful things to realize time went by, not even taking notice of the lonely figure a couple of yards away, lurking in the grass, silently watching them all the time, only to disappear just as quiet into the shadows of the night.

CHAPTER 17

As darkness fell, Wasiri sat at the head of the fire, his elders flanking his side. The fires were burning high that night. The shadows of the warriors dancing around the fire, casted ghostly shadows on the huts. Tonight they have a feast in honor of Sempehlinge, god of the underworld, to pledge the release of the soul of Jima and the other brave warriors as soon as the bodies was recovered for reunion to Thlokotsadi. They danced in war colors, jumping to the fire, bending and with a huge” Hoe” reversing backwards to start the process again. From the one end to the other each member got a chance to jump as high in the air as he can, whilst remaining on one spot. The women yell on a high-pitched note, breaking the sound with their tongues in a vibrating manner to urge the warriors on. A few cattle were to be slaughtered for the feast, and the womenfolk made huge pots of maize porridge. The rhythmic clapping of hands with the vocal support sounded like a death cacophony.

In the middle, in front of the dancing warriors, Kasimati, witch doctor and representative of the ancestors, chanted strange words as he smeared blood on each warrior with an oxtail from a basin he carried in his hand. He lifted his hands, looked to the sky, and yelled strange words to the ancestors to pledge them to protect the warriors on their journey. He danced around the fire, and performed a ritual for the god Sempehlinge to receive the warriors in good faith, and not to let tragedy befall on them. He ran up to Wasiri, pointed at his face, and then with both hands imitate as if he received something from above and threw the invisible whatever into the chief’s face, whilst brabbeling in strange tongues. This was supposed to be blessings sent by the gods for a mighty brave chief. He then returned to the fire to carry on his mystic ritual that only he is suppose to understand….a dialogue with the ancestors for more protection and information- that rather sounded like a conference with all the gods together at the same time.

Wasiri watched all this without even taking notice. His heart was heavy since he returned from Kgadi, spirit of the mountain. He refused to eat since then, and was duped in mourning. He mourned about the loss of Jima, the warriors and the heavy responsibility he received from Kgadi. He was clothed in the skin of the lion, portraying power as a chief should be, and the feathers of the peacock crowned in the royal band on his head, portraying various colors of knowledge, in his hand he held the wooden carved staff of righteousness, but his soul was draped in the skin of a wolf, messenger of the underworld.. He sat motionless and stared at the reflections of the fire, at the shadows of the figures dancing around it, and he listened to the songs and chants of the festivities, but in his heart of hearts there was a darkness, and a silence that was as cold as the deepest winter of the dead itself. Tonight he must decide what to do. Tonight he must meet the god Sempehlinge himself to negotiate the release of the souls of his deceased warriors. Tonight he must for the last time show his people the way, he must motivate his warriors and he must prepare for the last battle of himself…. the battle for his own life, for he know he will not return to his village after this journey…. and tonight he will have to appoint his predecessor. For this reasons, the feast was to Wasiri, chief of the Kakuwana tribe, only a mere vision, a blur of activities…a play on a stage that he will be seeing for the last time.

The night dragged on slowly, and the beating of drums echoed in the valley. Flames of the fires sprang into the starry night, sending little sparks high up into the air, and the chanting and singing became louder and the rhythmic clapping of hands faster. The warriors are being pumped up to a frenzy…the time of the slaughter of the oxen has come. They await the sign from Kasimati, the witchdoctor, that the time is ripe to fetch the animals. The warriors now encircled the big fire, and stood in one position, shuffling their feet and clapping their hands, whilst humming a chant. Kasimati crouched over the fire’s side, shaking his oxtail wand, and threw powder on the fire. Smoke erupted from the spot, and a dreadful stench accompanied it. The witchdoctor spoke in a strange voice for a moment, mumbling and chanted, and then turned around towards the warriors. He pointed to the captured animals that stood about thirty yards away, fastened to a tree. “ The god Semphelinge awaits his offering…bring it now!!!!” he screamed in a high-pitched voice.

The warriors reacted immediately and in a straight line, shuffled as in a trance towards the hapless animals. Once loosened, they were brought towards the stone of slaughter, where they were tied down to the ground. Kasimati took a sharp arrow, and pierced the main artery of each of the two animals, collecting the spurting blood in a small calabash. He then spitted in it, and mixed it with the warm blood. He then offered the calabash to each warrior to drink to enable each one of him or her to unify himself with the spirit of the animal. This ritual reflects their respect and gratefulness that the beast offered it on their behalf. On his command, the warriors then grabbed the animals, and with sharp knives slit the throats of the animals, holding them down to prevent it from struggling as death steps in.

When at long last the animals were still, the slaughter began, and the carcasses lifted and tied to poles above the flames. The women of the village brought huge pots with porridge and sauces, together with all kinds of herbs and delicacies they prepared for the event. Men and women now danced and sang songs of praise to Sempehlinge. The men sat around the place where Wasiri was sitting. Local brewed beer from corn flowed. They talked and discussed the plans for the next days, argued about certain strategies, made jokes and generally just were happy. As midnight approached, the meals were dished out, and meat was cut in abundance. Beer flowed and new pots arrived. This is a feast of many…and food was thrown into the fire as an offering to the deity Sempehlinge as a token of respect, obedience and subservience. Long into the night they feasted. As dawn approached, Wasiri was called upon by Kasimati….it was time to meet with the god of the mountain. Wasiri stood up and accompanied the witchdoctor. Up with the footpath they went, through the shrubbery for at least a mile, until they reached an opening on the foot of a medium sized hill, encircled with thick bushes and trees. Kasimati halted, and ordered Wasiri to wait a few yards away. The witchdoctor then opened his bag, and took out a karos…a type of animal skin blanket. This he threw on the grass. He then took out his bag of bones and ordered Wasiri to come and sit next to it on his knees. Wasiri did so, and the witchdoctor instructed him what to do….to keep quiet when the god speaks, never to look in the eyes of the deity, not to enrage the god and at all times to be respectful…if he values his life.

Wasiri saw the witchdoctor opening his bag again. He took out some objects and mixed it with water from a animal skin holder. This he gave Wasiri to drink. It tasted bitter and left a bad taste in Wasiri’s mouth. Suddenly he felt light headed, and the world tumbled before him. He heard Kasimati chanting and vaguely saw him standing in front of him, his body shaking…. then he heard thunder and saw lightning piercing the sky above them. He felt an icy cold breeze chilling his body, and mist appears as from nowhere out of the ground. All the time the thunder and lightning pierced the heavens. His head felt drowsy and he started to hallucinate.

He saw his deceased wives coming towards him….he saw Jima, lying on the ground in a pool of blood, his father standing at the gates of Thlokotsadi, waving at him…..sections of his own life flashing past his eyes…..then all of a sudden he was awake. He saw a huge cloud of mist approaching him from the right until it stopped about ten yards in front of him. For a moment nothing happened…just the strange mist. He could hear the wind blowing stronger, and the thunder escalating. Flashes struck the ground in front of him…. and a huge mystic figure. Twice his own size slowly stepped from out of the cloud. He saw the figure, and could feel the evil, black as the blackest night radiating from the god’s being. He remembered the witchdoctor’s words of caution, and looked down to the ground. From the corner of his eye he saw a figure cladded in animal skin…eyes red like the fire of his village…copper bangles around it’s arms and legs and a huge headpiece with feathers. The figure held a huge spear in the one hand, and a container with a blue misty substance in the other. He also noticed the figure wearing a copper breastplate with small skulls hanging from it. From the spear he noticed fresh blood dripping from its blade. A huge copper ring like that of a bull was pinned in the figures nose and earrings the size of oranges hung from his ears. He looked around, but he couldn’t see the witchdoctor anywhere…he was alone.

For a long moment the tension was electrifying, with only the thunder, mist and lightning dwelling the vicinity. Wasiri wondered if he still is alone…and if the deity is about to kill him. His whole body trembled as he awaits the deity’s next move…too scared to look up. The thunder suddenly stopped. Lightning still played around them, and the mist subdued a bit…. then with a deep rumbling voice like a thousand rivers, the god spoke.

“ Who are you? Why was I disturbed from my lair and commanded to come to this place by a mortal being…are you not aware that I, Sempehlinge…god of the underworld ….can take your soul with one flash of my spear? Are you not aware that I can contain your soul and keep it forever captured so that no other being…. god or human…. can rescue it? What is the reason for a mere man to call upon me…. the god of the dead….to come to him? Shall I not rip your heart out and feed it to the vultures?” the deity asked with anger in his voice.

Sempehlinge

Wasiri was trembling with fear. He stood on his hands and knees with his head bowed to the ground. He shook his head and clasped his hands in obedience. “ I am Wasiri…chief of the Kukuwana tribe, and your loyal servant, oh great Sempehlinge. I ask forgiveness for being the one to call upon the great Sempehlinge…please forgive me and do not rip my heart out…for I am here to plea with you…o great one” he said with sadness in his voice. Another moment there was silence. “ I know who you are…Wasiri, chief of the Kukuwana…do you not know that I know everything…that I dwell upon the mountains of the earth…. that I collect all the lost souls…. that I never sleep…. then how shall I not know who you are…. or what you want…or that you met with Kgadi, spirit of the mountain…you tell me?” the god said and pointed with his spear at Wasiri. The old man shook his head.” Then the great Sempehlinge will also know my reason for being here” The god held the little container with the blue appearance high in the air. “Are you not looking for this?” he questioned, and pointed with the spear towards the container. Wasiri looked at the container, but cannot figure out what it was. “ Wasiri does not know the contents of that you hold in your hand o great one…it is not from this world” he obediently exclaimed. The god laughed deep in his throat. “ This…Wasiri of the Kukuwana…IS THE SOULS OF YOUR DEAD WARRIORS!!!!!”

Wasiri nearly passed out of shock by this. “ What. …What does the great one want Wasiri to do…o great one…. to unite their souls with their bodies to go to Tlokhotsadi?”The god again pointed with his spear to Wasiri, and there was a little pause in his voice.” You Wasiri…chief of the Kukuwana tribe…will go to your village at once, and you will take one young girl…a maiden…not bigger than you…very young, and very beautiful… but not a small girl…she must be ready to marry. You will take this girl to the place of Damitswana…. the place of the great cloud near the big mountain. You will bind her hands and feet, and place gifts and flowers to me on her naked body…. The body must be spreaded across the stone of offering…. then you will cut her throat, and throw her fresh blood over her body after you have tasted it, whereupon you will cut her heart out and place it where her head meets her neck…and leave her there… her young soul an offer to me... that is what you will do…and I. Sempehlinge, will give you the souls you want…. as well as negotiating with Ramirake to protect your warriors against the white warriors. I will give the white warriors in your hands., but remember this….the girl must be untouched by any man…as a bride for me….I have being walking alone for too long….I am in need for a wife…this is the thing you must do!” The god instructed.

Wasiri listened in stunned silence and shook with remorse as he reacted to these words. The god looked at Wasiri curiously” Do I see fear in your heart? Are you too afraid to honor this agreement? Is the heart of Wasiri of the Kukuwana that of an old woman with no teeth? If not so…let Wasiri not be afraid to make this agreement with Sempehlinge…. an exchange…the souls of his warriors and that of the white ones for the soul of a maid” Wasiri shook his head. “ No o great one…. please…I beg the great one…spare the life of the maid…is there not maybe another way to make this deal…Wasiri will offer himself in the place of this girl?” he asked. The god stared at him in anger, his eyes spurted little red sparks. He slammed his spear’s back end into the ground, and sparks flew where the stick strucked the ground. “ Why should I be here any longer…why should I reason with you… why shall I torment my ears with the squeaking of an old man that cannot yelp like a puppy anymore…I have got the souls of your warriors…. you have the soul of the maid…. Sempehlinge only trade in useful souls…. not that of old forgotten ones…. either we exchange…. or I take this I already have…I am here to trade…. not to reason…. so, do not tempt me any further…. or I will add the soul of Wasiri to these I already possess!” he warned the old man, and shook the container for Wasiri to see.

Wasiri felt the tears run down his cheeks, his blood ran cold. “ Wasiri agrees with the great Sempehlinge…he is an old man…he will join Habekwa to Thlokotsadi soon…the great one speaks the truth…. so…Wasiri will do as the great Sempehlinge requests…if there is no other way great one” he answered. The god shook his head.” There is no other way…the deal is a fair one…then we have this agreement” and he laughed as he stepped back into the mist. The thunder lashed out once more…then all was quiet. Wasiri slowly looked up. Sweat and tears ran from his old face Dawn already broke, there were no clouds anymore…no thunder, no god, and the sun was shining bright over the mountains. Wasiri thought he was just dreaming, just having a bad nightmare, but when he looked in front of him, he saw the little container with the strange blue mystic clouds inside, silently standing there as if being a bad reminder of the devilish deal, and he knew he wasn’t dreaming. With trembling hands he took it and placed it into his own leather bag at his side. As he turned around, he saw the witchdoctor standing there…watching him questiongly. Wasiri slowly walked up to him, eyes on the ground…searching for a solution. “ Did you also hear what the great one said?” The latter shook his head. “ No my chief….I only saw Wasiri alone….speaking in different tongues…then I went, for I am not allowed to be in the presence when you speak to the great one.” Together they walked to the village while Wasiri told the witchdoctor all the god told him.

CHAPTER 18

Victoria

The morning sun was high in the air as David reached the villa of Victoria’s parents. The house was a Victorian style mansion with luscious green shrubbery. At the back was a garden with the most beautiful flowers with a bench for lovers neatly tucked into the far side of the corner. Next to it a little stream flowed that ended in a huge fishpond. Huge Koi fishes enriched the water with their bright red and yellow colors. David dismounted and fastened his stallion to the old Oak tree in front of the house. He took a deep breath and took the little stairs that led to the front entrance. With a pounding heart he knocked on the door. He waited a moment, and then he heard as a person came towards the door. He took a deep breath again, as the door was opened. Herrings, the butler, stood for a moment in amazement as David bulged his cheeks to blow out the pent up air. “ Master David…. how good to see you…please come in…. I will tell the young madam you are here” he greeted somewhat surprised. David took his hat off and handed it to the butler.” Hello mister Herrings…thank you…I’ll wait down here” David replied. Herrings turned around and hanged the hat on the hook behind the door. “Quite all right sir” he answered and went up the flight of stairs to perform the duty. David felt uneasy. He was not sure how he would tell Victoria about his future plans. He also wasn’t sure how she would respond. He wasn’t even sure how he would respond, or how to touch the conversation for that matter.

He heard the click-click sound on the wooden floor as Victoria descended from the top story of the mansion down the stairs .She was dressed in a pink dress with a low collar, exposing her deep cleft. Around her middle was a golden belt that was drawn tight around her voluptuous figure. In her hair was an imitated flower, and she had dark glasses stuck into her shoulder length blonde hair. Her blue eyes twinkled as she saw him. He pretended to study a painting of a rose garden on the wall as she came down the stairs.” O David…my dear David…what brought you so early to my domain?” she asked with a girlish smile as she came to stand next to him. He could smell the fresh smell of Lavender scented soap and took it she just had a bath. He could feel the uneasiness welling up into his throat.” Come on you yellow jellyfish…”he thought to himself. He trampled around a bit, and then he looked at her. “ Hello Vicki…I just thought I would come around and see how you are doing…sort of lonesome at home you know…” he stammered, and immediately knew he opened the conversation on the wrong foot. He should’ve told her straight away, but somehow he didn’t feel like breaking her heart…not right now. He decided that he would wait a little longer. She grabbed him around the neck and kissed his cheek. “ Oh…acidulous…. can I order us some tea…then we can go and sit in the garden…. mom and dad went to London for the week…so…I am all alone…. some of the staff also got the day off…. and now you are here, it is just perfect” she giggled, and David could feel the blackness overwhelming him as the knob in his throat started to cut the airflow to his brain. “ She turned around and whispered something in the butler’s ears, then turned to him again.” Perfect…now that is bloody perfect…I came down here to tell her good-buy, and now I stepped right into the lion’s lair with the perfect defenseless situation” he thought bewildered. She calmly took him by the hand and led the way to the far secluded side of the huge garden. The soft warm morning breeze lazily stirred the long drooping branches of the Weeping Willows as it found it’s way to the North Eastern side of the island.

David struggled behind her to keep on his feet. Once they reached a well protected spot, obscured by a huge fence in the shades, she sat down next to a huge tree trunk and pulled him down to the ground. As he sat next to her, she started stroking his hair, unbuttoning his shirt with slow movements. He cautiously looked around, and watched as her long pink nails smoothly and elegantly work their way down to his navel. She noticed his uneasiness and giggled. “ Don’t worry…nobody’s here...I sent Herrings to town to buy some cookies….it is just you and me…Herrings most definitely would make a turn at the pub…and that could take quite a while…I know. He would use any excuse to slip away for a tot….so relax….we never had a private moment like this for a long while now, and I want you all to myself…just for today” she said with a naughty expression on her face.” Do you mind?” she asked as she teasingly tickled his navel, forcing his muscles to bolt. David was caught totally unawares.

He didn’t plan for this, and wasn’t sure whether he still had the guts to tell her about his scheme. Suddenly he felt like a lousy slimy creature.” Umm..uhh…No…. not at all…go right ahead…” he stammered. She sat upright on her knees in front of him, and proceeded to open his shirt. When this was undone, she started to unbutton her own dress down to the middle, and discarded of the top half- sliding it sideways to expose her bosom. She smiled at the expression on his face as he gawked at her stiff round breasts, his mouth literally hanging open. She giggled and also teasingly slipped off the straps of her braziers. Her milk white freckled breasts swayed as she lifted her arms lazily to loosen the ribbon in her hair. “David…I want you to make love to me today like you never have dreamed of doing. I am still a virgin…but I want to present it to you to break it for me. I want to live out my deepest secrets and fetishes on you today…if you don’t mind. I can’t wait any longer…I want you so much” - she whispered in earnest with a cool nonchalant tone. David stared in amazement at her little upright mamas and cleavage, at her pink pointed nipples. He could see she was hot and hungry. Her nipples stood up hard and straight on her rock stiff little mountains. It was the first time he ever saw her naked, and it felt strange and at the same time a little bit embarrassing. She watched him, saw the lost expression on his face. As if being prompted to move on, she giggled and stood up straight. “Now you just lie down you naughty boy- and watch my way of doing things…just enjoy the scenery” she whispered with a teasing tone. Slowly she then teasingly inserted her fingers into her mouth, sucking on them, then licked her right index finger, and rubbed it around her right areola, touching her nipple now and then, pinching it softly. The corners of her mouth twitched and her belly muscles retracted every time she pinched the tips as if she endured a slight electrical shock. With her left hand, she held her breast upright. To add to the teasing, she licked her full lips and moaned softly, watching his actions. She started to rub her nipples between her fingers, squeezing them softly whilst inhaling deep breaths of air.

She could feel her body reacting spasmodically to the stimulus- and a warm sensation slowly was taking effect deep inside her uterus. She could feel her little clitoris also was starting it’s ascending motion towards full erection- her clitbutton just about touching her underwear. Her vaginal entrance indicated that it already was lubricating itself with glandular oil and nearly ready for penetration. She took both her breasts in her hands and squeezed them tight against each other, messaging and pumping them- moaning as she did so. Vicci was totally oblivious of David’s presence at that moment. Her whole world and mind was focused at one point of interest only…to become a sensational horny slut for that moment. She made circular motions with her lower abdomen as if she was rubbing herself against an unseen body. She then slowly started lifting her dress- inch by inch, whilst rubbing her inner white legs against her genitals with long strokes every time her dress shifted higher and higher.

She felt the wetness against her inner thighs as her fluids was being discarded into her lingerie. When her dress was eventually shifted above her pubic hairline- she started to rub her satin blue panties, stroking hard on her now fully erected clit. She was shivering with anticipation and she could feel her legs shaking intensively. She gulped deep breaths and uttered little moans of sheer pleasure as she touched her inner vital orgasmic trigger with short intervals. Now and again she would forcefully push both her hands into her now moist panties and rub her vagina- clenching her small outer labia between her fingers and cuddling them, slipping her middle finger deep through her slippery waiting crack. Every now and then she would push her finger into her moist opening to obtain more lubrication fluids, which she would smear onto her hard clitbutton. With her left thumb- she was lowering her panties enough for David to see her light brown trimmed pubic hair. She started to move her buttocks in little circles every time she rubbed her vagina. She then slowly pulled her right hand out- and David could see that her finger was wet with vaginal juices. She licked it off slowly as if she was sucking a sweet lollipop, and pushed her panties down some more. She opened her legs as wide as the panties would allow her to so that her outer lips were yawning- exposing her pink inner flesh.

She started to arch in a backwards-bended position over the trunk with her buttocks pushed forward. David was staring straight at her soft hairy fruit-into her inviting entrance. She then first slit her finger through her opening a couple of times and stretched her fanny wands with her left hand index and forefinger, pulling them upwards to present her inner pussy lips as wide as she can, and took her two right fingers, slowly stroking her now erect clit button. She jerked every time as she touched the tip of her clitoris. After a few moments, he could see her lubrication fluids dripping from her outer labia into her overstretched panties, her whole womanhood swollen and glittering wet, her little inner lips just visibly hanging out of her cleft, forming a neat entrance. She decided that her panties was now handicapping her too much- and in one sliding motion, discarded her now totally wet lingerie and kneeled before him with her legs wide apart. She loosened her belt and pushed her dress down- dropping it on the grass. She was now as naked as a baby rat in front of David with her anatomy now totally exposed. She started to rub her body and snatch again, softly slapping her trigger to inject more adrenaline- licking her lips and fingers. She opened her thighs as wide as possible with feet far apart and crouched on the ground in a sitting position.

She licked her two right hand fingers until it was sobbing wet- and slowly shafted them in deep into her opening while she watched her little oyster, mouth somewhat open as she inhaled deeply. Calmly she sat down and slipped into her fingers, pretending it was a penis. Slowly she started to ride her own hand- groaning every time as her fingers disappeared into her little now widened erotic hole. Every time she would enter herself- she jerked her buttocks hard forward to reach the maximum. Her fingers became smeared with vaginal lubrication, which streamed downwards onto her palm. She kept this on for a couple of minutes, throwing her head back and forth in circles to let her hair drop in loose strands.. David was in awe He never saw a naked woman before, and she was a beauty…so well formed. He stared at her shaven pubic hair and navel and watched as she rode her tiny tight dark patch with vigor. She looked up at him for the first time, gasping with concentration ” You like it?” she stuttered in between the motions. He shook his head. Still kneeled, she slid forward until she was on top of him- her knees still outstretched as she now was squatted over him, so that David could see right into her dark yawning patch between her legs. Her outer labia was now heavily inflated. David’s eyes nearly popped out. Victoria quickly loosened his shoes, pulled it off, and pushed him down on his back. He watched her pure white buttocks as she mounted on him and unbuttoned his trousers, pulling it to his ankles…all the time still rubbing her snatch with one hand. Her sweat was dripping onto his chest and her breathing was fast. He could feel her moist pubic hair rubbing against his thigh as she sat down, and felt the warm moisture between her legs as her little snatch opened up.

He watched as her round breasts sway to and fro as she discard his garments. She looked at his manhood, now erect and at the ready. Softly she stroked his length, watching it getting wet around the tip.” My, oh my…. what a huge one you’ve got…why didn’t you tell me earlier that you are this blessed” she taunted him. She looked at his face.” Have you ever seen mine?” she asked. He just shook his head. Too shocked to utter a word.” Why…I could have shown you…you just could’ve asked y’know” she answered and bend forward, kissing the tip of his penis softly. She took his rogue into her mouth and rolled her tongue over his head- nibbling on his skin- and started to work his shaft deep into her mouth.

With both hands she then grabbed his shaft and worked her mouth down to his pubic hair- swallowing his whole length into her throat. She started to slap her vagina again- copulating David with all the lust a woman can dream of. After a long while she disengaged her lips from his cock- and moved her crouch over his- stretching her yawning patch over his wet tool- rubbing her clit against his shaft. -exposing the sweetest small bunch of light brown pubic hair around his dinger. She smiled and slowly parted her outer lips wide with her index fingers. David stared at her womanhood, the light brown pubic hair encircling her entrance, surrounding the small pair of virginal lips - fluffing them in between it, and the small glittering pink inner tapered lips hanging slightly apart from below, neatly nudged in between her milky thighs. She had beautiful round apple like buttocks and elegant legs to support her short tantalizing sturdy tidbit. She looked at David- and then down to her patch as if she was proud of it, playing and toying with his through her curly pubic fluff.. What she did next stunned David to the extend of his wildest dreams. She parted her inner small vaginal lips further apart and stretched her cute little wands upwards until he could see her clit bulging upwards like a little cannon- it appeared stiff and David could see it was strained against the labia. She smiled and threw her blonde head backwards. She moaned softly. He could see her tummy contracting- and he knew she was about to urinate on him. She started to rub her stomach in circles with her long nails.

With a soft groan she relaxed her muscles and he saw her small hole bulging. Her mouth was opened as she gasped for air and he could hear she was pressing when her breathing stopped as she concentrated. David could feel his knob nearly breaking the stress limits- and he was dripping in anticipation to suck her deep and furious. The next moment there was a swishing sound as a arc of warm urine erupted with a squirt from her yawning pussy. It landed on his chest- and streamed downwards on his tummy. She giggled and closed her eyes to concentrate once more to relax her muscles. She bit her lower lip and the next moment the pee was at first dripping- then faster until it came with a hissing sound between her stretched lips onto his manhood. With little moans she kept on squirting as he saw her muscles contracting. Pee was running along her inner lips, along her legs- wetting her small snatch and buttocks. She took her hand and smeared her vagina and buttocks with her own pee - lubricating herself while she kept on pressing out squirt after squirt. David could hold on no more. He took his stiff manhood and started to pump it feverishly. He was all wet and grabbed his rod firmly, then shakingly forced the penishead in between her inviting inner pink lips. “ She paused and look at him. “ Remember- if you come…do not pull out…come inside me…o.k…fill me up?” she requested. David just shook his head and pulled her snatch closer. He observed the small entrance closing and then suddenly she eased herself down onto him. Her tight patch slipped over his pecker-engulfing his flesh and slipping over it so that her warm body moist surrounded his stiff pole.

Vicci watched as David’s manhood disappeared into her. She shrieked with pleasure as she sank him deeper into her passage to paradise. Her face became contorted with ecstasy as she gulped for breath, lolling her head to her right. She pressed her pussy down in order to help him entering her deeper- Squeezing her buttocks tight to clamp his cock firm with her muscles. He flipped and grabbed her buttocks from behind, pulling her down onto him-ramming his shaft as deep as possible into her wet slimy little fuckhole. She jerked upright and uttered a short scream of ecstasy- digging her fingernails into his chest as she felt his rod suddenly forcing her inner thighs open. She felt his vein entering her with vigil- forcing it’s way up into her soft love pot. He could see her outer vaginal lips rolling inward as his cock disappeared into her small alley. She was panting heavily and stood static for a moment to give herself a little time to get used to her pussy’s outstretched feeling- then she pulled out of him a bit- and again slipped into him again. She repeated the process over and over until her love canal was thoroughly lubricated enough inside to handle his shaft. She could feel his inflated knob pumping against her inner protective gland- and decided to go for it in one solid motion. She took hold of his chest, took a deep breath, readying herself- and slammed her pussy hard down onto his erected nail- sending it through her inner guardian gate with all her strength. An immense burning flame erupted inside her crotch and she screamed as his bolt ripped through her tender protector- forcing her to grasp his chest hair. .

She froze for a moment, screaming with fingers clamped spasmodically into his flesh as she was waiting for the hurting sensation to subdue- nearly fainting in the process. Her breathing was a fast staccato and continuous moans and hisses escaped from her clenched teeth. Small pearls of perspiration were forming in between her cleavage and forehead as she fought the agony. Never in her life did she expect it to be so terribly sore. She sat like that for a while- slowly adapting to the spreading pain. She felt his rod deep inside her- stretching her thighs and love passage to the limit. After what felt like eternity, she slowly raised her wet face and shakingly looked at David. “ It’s…it’s o.k…I’m all right…. now fuck me slowly…not too fast!” she whispered hoarsely and started to wiggle her buttocks carefully up and down in short strokes to massage her tender rupture and also to lubricate his manhood. Her mouth was opened as she inhaled deep breaths to fit the rhythm of her movements. David could see the reddish color on his anatomy as the blood from the ruptured virgin was smearing him. Slowly she started lengthening her strides and took his drill deeper and deeper into her cave of lust. She gasped as she sank his whole six inches into her womb- sitting flat on him with her whole bodyweight. She leaned back and grabbed his ankles. David now was starting to pump his drill with more eagerness- harder into her yawning inflated snatch.“ Steady Dave…slowly…you will tear me if you go too hard. Relax…let me do you..” she cautioned him. She sat static for a moment with her head thrown backwards- and eyes closed, breathing heavily. She wanted to cuddle his cock inside her for a moment and rest her aching love pot a bit. After she felt that her outstretched pussy was relaxed and got used to his size, she slowly started to wiggle her buttocks in a forward motion- now sliding his rod in and out of her horizontally.

She could feel his penishead touching and sliding up her retracted wands inside- touching her G-spot and forcing her taut muscles to react with sudden twitches every time it happened. Her slit was now becoming slippery soft and elastic and she started to jerk her pussy to and fro passionately in a faster rhythm so that his bulging head can rub her cervix and G-spot on a more regular basis. She started to rub her clit with her right hand in circles while slapping it as she was riding his cock harder and faster. Now and then he would accidentally slip out of her-just to be re-introduced quickly by her- not to miss a single stroke. She then stopped and once more -her tummy muscles tensed. She was still arched backwards as she slowly started to pee again whilst his rod was slipping in and out of her outstretched vagina. Pee squirted in all directions as he slammed his hose into her extended crack. Her wet fleshy buttocks were making a slapping sound on his thighs every time she slammed her crouch with force to grasp as much of his length as she can. She held her vaginal lips panned with one hand while still smearing her pee on his rod and her cleft. She kept her two fingers scissored both sides of her fuckhole-as his stiff was entering her in order to be able to feel his pole slipping through her fingers. With the other hand she grabbed his testicles and squeezed it softly. David now was at a point of no return.

The wild animal in him woke up with a wild roar. He suddenly pulled out and pushed her backwards until she was lying flat on the grass- legs widely stretched and positioned over his shoulders. He bent her legs forward past her head until her glittering pussy was fully exposed in the air with the outer Labia majora stretched wide open for him so that he clearly could see her small pee hole. “C’mon you little oversexed little lady…pee again now…hard…I want to suck your pussy while you pee..” he gasped. Vicci giggled and opened her patch with both middle and index fingers until her inner and outer lips was flat against her inner thighs. David could see inside her yawning pit of pleasure - noticing the now bulging erotic muscle. For a moment he could not figure out where the hell she’s pumping all the waterworks from, but he couldn’t care less- for her yawning aphrodisiacal flower had bedazzled his already clouded senses. .He saw her urethra exit hole bulging upwards…and saw the pink flesh of the inside of her entrance becoming wet again where his wad was extracted moments ago- leaving it gaping.. Love juice was oozing inside her little snatch around her inner tapered vaginal lips- her glands was once more pumping lubricant for all they were worth. She closed her eyes for a moment to concentrate, then she started to urinate slowly, first running down along the cleft of her canyon, into her yawning entrance- then with a spout in a wider arc upwards into the air. David dived into her snatch, positioned his lips over her pee hole, and pushed his tongue feverishly over her little hole so that the yellow salty substance was squirted straight into his mouth. He tasted the warm substance on his tongue and smelled the warm womanly odor of her flesh. He then pushed his tongue as deep as possible into her orgasmic entrance and started to tongue- do her, licking and sucking her clit, fingering her while licking her. Vicci was on the brink of explosion. She wriggled and rolled, arched her back, kicked her legs straight into the air with tension-grabbing his hair and ramming her snatch into his face, clutching his body with her legs-rubbing her clit against his mouth. “ C’mon…put it in…put it in..I can’t hold on for much longer….fuck me ….fuck me…please!!” she cried as she neared her ultimate peak.. She jerked her buttocks feverishly to and fro in vibrating anticipation as he readied his cock near her entrance to sank into her oblivion once more.

She could not hold it any longer- she want him inside her very quickly. He struggled to get his stiff into her fast wiggling love pot- but she quickly grabbed his shaft and shoved it’s head into her waiting vaginal mouth. She threw her legs over his shoulders and grabbed his legs- then eagerly rammed her snatch forward until his total size was engulfed in her furnace. She felt his length sliding way down into her- sending unthinkable sensations through her uterus. She howled with pure pleasure as he slipped in and out of her- banging her buttocks with his crouch. David totally lost control of his intentions. With all the power and stamina he could muster- he banged every inch of his length as hard and as deep into her as he could- nearly tearing her pussy apart as he dived his pipe deep in and out of her inviting slime hole. He could feel his testicles protesting every time he slapped them against her wet buttocks. He held her legs wide apart up in the air while he shot his arrow with vigor far away down her snatch- sending her tits and erected nipples bouncing back and forth. Vicci was yelping and shrieking like a little dog every time he drove his drill into her rapture- sending sensations through her entire body. After a long energy sapping session of pumps- David exploded into her inner sanctum- sending bolting streams of hot sperm down her wet slimy alley into her waiting uterus..

He groaned like a wild boar every time his body jerked backwards with pleasure. Vicci stiffened as she felt his rod exploding inside her. She could feel the contractions and the warm cum as he was ejecting his seed with convulsions into her incubator. She was so exited by the sudden eruption- that her own body suddenly exploded in a violent sensational outburst of ecstasy. She screamed and howled as her womb contracted and quivered with every passing detonation of ecstasy.. She jerked in back breaking spasms every time she herself started ejecting- ramming her pussy into his probing shaft, masturbating with every ounce of muscle her body could offer. She started to cry hysterically when exhaustion and numbness took over as each uncontrollable orgasm after the other drained her of energy.

At long last,- both were so exhausted and on the brink of extinction. David stood on his knees- sweating and gasping for air- then toppled off her and dropped on to the grass like a dead dog- totally drained of stamina. Vicci just slumped onto the grass , legs wide open and no strength to even close her bruised vagina. After an hour or so- When at last Victoria decided she had rested enough - she lazily leaned over David, playing with his slumped and demoralized manhood. Her pussy felt all torned and vandalized, but she was very satisfied. ” David….do you think we could have a threesome..?”she asked. David looked at her in amazement.” Threesome…. what in the blazes is that?” he asked curiously. She smiled.’ Oh….I want to invite Caroline tonight. She also never had a man in her life before….I want you to do her tonight…that is after you did me again that is” she replied. David couldn’t believe his ears.” Carol…who the blazes is Caroline? …my good lord Vicki….for god knows how many years we never had sex…not even mentioned it…..now all of a sudden you want to start an orgy…when did this happen?” She shook her head.” No my dearest…for many years I dreamed of seducing you…. yearned for it….I was just too scared to touch the topic…until now…it started to feel as if my fanny was narrowing without proper sex..I want to have you as much as I can…for all the lost years….I want to live out my fantasy…and you’re part of it…so is Caroline…..I am bisexual…I love women as well….me and her have been fucking each other for quite some time now…she is a nymph…but lord…can that girl fuck…she made me come more than three times a night! I want you to make love to her her…then do me…we both fulfill her…and you both doing me…. is that so strange…oh and by the way…it’s Caroline Mc Taggard..you’ll like her pussy…it is tight and bushy.. She’s got a huge clit though…but you’ll love it.” she said in earnest.

David was slammed to the ground totally. He never thought Victoria would ever say this…he never expected it from her. He sat up.”Caroline McTaggard!!!…Old Mac of the winery’s daughter? …That human tank….o my lord….o dear…o dear…this is getting way beyond my expectations…o dear…now who would’ve guessed that little sour puss…o dear me…old Mac will kill me if….does he know?…O dear me…you…her…o god,. What next… O.K…. I’ll do it…but only for once…. and no cock ever will crow about this little freak show the two of you are planning…o brother…I smell big trouble” he replied. She kissed him.” Good. I’ll phone Carol., and calm down. Nobody will ever know. You’ll like her. …it makes me feel horney to see somebody else making love…I want to see you stretching her pussy like you did mine. I want to lick your shaft as you are going in and out of her” she said.

David stared at her. “ You don’t want to tell me…the two of you..?” he asked. She laughed. “ O David…of course…me and Carol are part time lovers for at least two years. We belong to a secret woman club…all do it with each other. We made love over a hundred times …I also love to suck a sweet pussy now and then when the craving befalls me…and hers especially stays wet permanently…I know. Even when she’s working. We did it once in her office at Berkley… very daring I would say…but we did it…you want to hear about it?” David was flabbergasted- but he decided that this was too good to be true. “ Shoot…I’m listening…” he replied. “ All of it?” - she asked with a glint in her eyes. David smiled. “ Up until the very last tiny little scrumptious morsel. I want to know how you two did it…it should be mighty interesting…and don’t leave even a single thing out of the picture..” he taunted her.“

Well..”she started. “I had to go to Berkley to visit my aunt…and decided I want to surprise her. So, I made a turn at her dad’s nephew’s solicitor firm where she worked. Luckily for me…and for her I suppose…it was a Friday afternoon…they usually closes at one o’ clock for the weekend…but by strange co-incidence she was still there…alone. The whole building was quiet and empty…. all was as if ready for a set-up. She did not expect me- so, when I entered her office, she was all alone and busy writing on some paper on the table- but she stood in front of the table, leaning over it- legs slightly apart, exposing the most sensational round arse in the world. You could see every line in her cleft between her tenacious bums. She was wearing a tight knee-high black skirt with high heel shoes. Her long black hair was drooping over her face.

Something naughty crossed my mind at that moment-and I reacted to my feelings. She looked so adorable standing there- half bent forward with her skirt slightly lifted to expose her well-formed calves. I just stood there…enjoying the view. I studied her full lips- already feeling them cuddling my nipples. After a while…I couldn’t help myself anymore. I could feel my nipples rising way above my areolas- becoming very sensitive as they touched my blouse. Gosh…my breath even became contorted! Before I knew…I had unconsciously started to unbutton my blouse, loosen my bra straps …and was messaging my by then fully erect tits. I could feel my panties were getting wet by the minute. Lubrication juice was oozing out of my glands. My cunt was aching for stimulation….and my clit was pushing my pantie-liner way ahead. I started to work myself to a pitch - rubbing my own pussy on top of my dress in the process- imagining I’m seducing her. I was so wet…a dark spot appeared in front as my love juice was blotting my skirt. Softly I dropped my parcel I was holding and took off my shoes. All this time she was still not even noticing me…just stood there and did whatever she was busy with. So… As I was now nearly fainting of lust,- I couldn’t hold back anymore. I was afraid that I would come there and then…without even touching her sweet little fruit. So I took off my blouse, undo my bra…locked the door quietly and as softly as possible tiptoeing up unto her without her even noticing. I positioned myself behind her- smelling her perfume.

It was about then that the animal you men usually possess took over in me. Before I knew- I instinctively had pushed her forward- flat on the desk- and stuck my one hand in between her warm inner legs.. sliding her dress upwards in the process. Shame…it happened so fast- she did not even had time to react. Stationary were flying off the table onto the carpet as she grabbed the table for support. It was then that I got the surprise. My fingers just slipped into her warm soppy wet little cunt! I couldn’t believe it. I grabbed her skirt and shove it upwards. and what do you know… I was staring at her voluptuous exposed little arse….she was not even wearing a panty! Her tight little oyster was nudged neatly in between her milk white inner thighs- and my fingers was way deep into it. Barely visible between her tight arse you could see her thick outer lips with her labia curling out from the inside around my fingers..- just hanging there in between the opening - ready to eat..her pubic hair slightly protruding backwards between the narrow gap of her buttocks.. Her inside lips were tight against each other…except for where her pussy’s entrance was…there they parted at her opening neatly as if ready for a fuck. Caroline only then realized it was me…and what I intended.

She just smiled with a soft groan and allowed me to proceed. I then knew she wanted a fuck as bad as I do. She loosened the buttons of her blouse as well- and undid her bra too. Boy…she possessed the most beautiful pair of tits in the whole of England. She flopped her tits out and started to squeeze them to warm herself. She’s got these huge dark little mountains. She then pulled her dress up high enough for me to engage her snatch in full. Spreading her legs , placing one knee on the table to open her crack wide so that you could see her soft reddish flesh in her gap between her widened crack..she started to slide her finger inside her pussy..keeping it in deep and shaking it.. When she eventually pulled it out…I could see her twat was smudging oiled. None of us uttered a word…we both knew it was orgy time! She then teased me by splitting her labia with her fingers…enabling me a deep look into her fuck hole. I could see her meat inside were all wet and the white ooze was nearly forming a puddle inside her entrance…dripping huge drops from her heavily stiff clit. I forgot all decency and grabbed her hairy juicy plum and started to rub it red hot. She started to utter little shrieks of pleasure as I touched her now nearly fully erect clit. I felt she was becoming stormy wet- and her clit was so inviting- naturally I lost it all. I pulled up my own skirt, pulled down my wet panties…stretched my lips and hers wide open-and started to rub my own clit against her slimy warm inside. Both of us were as wet as hell. We smeared each other with our slimy juices and I was bumping my cunt against hers.

I then kneeled and at first,- teasing her by biting both her buttocks and licking her rapture.., pulling her elastic curled labia with my teeth… and sliding my erect nipple up and down the length of her rapture. I then pressed my left stiff nipple into her yawning snatch while I played with her hard clit..Pinching it softly. She jerked every time I did that. I could see she liked it... then I shoved my three fingers slowly into her waiting pussy- as deep as I can into her tiny fuckhole. She was an oven inside. I then started to tug and yank her huge clit harder and faster. She quivered and squealed as she took all three of my fingers and the pace accelerated. I then stood up, lifted her arse up a notch, then with one hand stretched her thick puss lips wide open- opened my own pussy..and started to pee… straight into her exposed oozing fuck hole. She looked at me in surprise…not saying a word. Her mouth opened and she moaned with pleasure as my stream of pee hit her inside.

She then groaned and bended forward some more, opened her legs as far as possible- and widened her pussy even more with her one hand….rubbing mine while I pee. Gosh…that now really turned me on. I never knew she was that horny as well. I pressed my pee hole flat against her pussy entrance and filled her fuck hole full with pee to the extend that it was overflowing down her crack and down her legs. She rubbed the pee over her cunt…her belly. my cunt..Everywhere! She then shoved her own fingers into my oozing gap- fucking me as well. I then started to shove as many fingers into her as I could get. Her poor hole was stretched to the limit. I got four fingers in! She even grabbed my hand and shoved my fingers deeper into her pussy hole..Fucking herself with my fingers! It’s amazing how such a tight looking puss could stretch.. Imagine- there we were…in the open office…me finger fucking her and she fucking me while she was spreaded forward over her table…not saying a word…just pushing her arse backwards and shoving it back and fro for me to fuck her deeper. You should see her snatch.. it looked so beautiful from behind… small and hairy- with her thick lips eating my fingers- her wetted crack running into her glittering tiny arse…her huge clit dangling loosely. Her majestic tits was bobbing all over the show. Every time I opened her snatch to insert my fingers again-- the love juice was dripping in streams from it. Shit.. I was gone at that moment- I dropped on my knees- pushed her dress even further over her head- opened her arse wide- tucked my whole mouth into her widened gap so that her outer lips was smothering me- and sucked her pussy deep and dry.

She was so dripping wet, she smeared my whole face with her love juice. I told her to pee as well…and she at first was a little reluctant…but when she eventually did…she did it with grandeur! Her pee was pushed out in a thick stream and was spouting backwards into my face. I went wild and sucked her pee hole, rubbing her pee all over my breasts and pushing my face deep into her wet snatch. I couldn’t get enough of her and sucked her enormous clit deep into my mouth while I worked her snatch furiously. Her pee was squirted all over the place…in my face, over me, running down her legs. on the carpet! I didn’t care. I just wanted her to pee and pee and keep on peeing. I went berserk and pushed my face as deep into her pussy as possible, grabbing her huge round tits and pumping them while I nearly lifted her off the ground as I shoved my face up her crack. I was so horny- my own pussy was dripping with lust. Pussy juice was oozing out of me like the Niagara falls…and I dropped my panties there and then. I couldn’t wait to push my hands in between my thighs- and finger myself while I was sucking and fingering her. I spreaded my legs as wide as I could and nearly pushed my whole hand into my own fuckhole! She then spun around and pushed me flat on the carpet. I was to lift my arse so that my snatch was in the air- legs as wide as possible.

She got undressed and stretched my fanny so far open- I thought it is going to rupture. Now it was my turn too pee. I pressed as hard as I could and when I started to pee- she dived into me…I thought she’s going to end up inside me! She lapped up every drop of juice that came out of my bladder. We then turn for a “69”- and ate each other out…totally lost in time. O lord… I never enjoyed a pussy so much like that time. You should have seen her when she reached her climax-. Gasping for air and coming in streams!. She screamed like a banshee when she reached her peak. She slammed her twat hard on my face every time she had a convulsion. I could taste her cum in my mouth and sucked as hard as I could. I thought everybody in the neighbourhood heard her. I was so worked up- I just let go, pushing her face into my love pot and came with her tongue inside my own fuck hole.. After that we decided that we both want your manhood inside us, both to get our virginity broken at the same time…from there on we will do it straight…a type of coupe de grace if you want. You must fuck me…then her…then me her. you, me and her each other until we all are well drained of energy. We want to pee on you…you on us..we on each other…that is our fetish .He gawked at her. “O my good lord…what the hell else do you have in mind…or hiding…you and her….o my lord…this isn’t good….and the bad part is…I’m getting in the middle of it…how long has this idea been slumbering in your little minds?…if your parents ever find out….if mine ever find out….god, I’ll be dead…and you the laughing stock of the community….are you sure you want to do this?” he questioned.

She looked to the sky and thought for a moment.” Yes my darling…but we darn’t show anything…daddy would burst a vessel if he would know his little daughter were a wild card…and I told you not to worry…it will be our little secret.” David was stunned. “It better be…it’s my ding-dong that is on the line here…o lord, and I thought you were this sweet little English lady…this perfect wife for a businessman you know…why didn’t you tell me earlier?”” She touched his lips with her index finger. “ David…David…don’t be so naïve….of course I want to be the sweet little angel…but first…I am still young…and I also have my preferences….like that sweet little ding-a-ling between your legs. Why should I be a sweet girl just because society expects it from me just because I’m a woman…. while in the meantime you men can rollick through life on your sex ego?” David thought this over for a moment. “ What will happen if you get pregnant….I mean I had…you know what..” She just laughed.” No David my dear…I wouldn’t…modern technology also reached our little home…the pill you know…and besides,...don’t be so worried. I realize you do not want to marry right now…so am I, but in the meantime…let us enjoy life and do the blue bogey lights out of each other. If someday we feel like marriage, well…. maybe we can talk” she ended with a sigh.

David thought long and hard…maybe life wasn’t that unfair after all…IF nobody finds out. He turned to her with more self confidence.” Vicki…I want to tell you something…I want to leave for Africa…type of philanthropic trip …you know.” Now it was her turn to be surprised.” Whaaat…you are going where!?” He smiled.” Africa my dear nymphomaniac…. Africa” She was silent for a moment.” And when is this adventure supposed to start…if I may ask…or do you want to turn rabbit?” He stared into the blue sky.” Oh, I haven’t decided as yet…. but it will be real soon….I just have to get a way past the old man without him knowing it…otherwise I’ll be dead meat…I suppose…and NO…I am not turning rabbit…well, at least not now….maybe later it wouldn’t be such a bad idea if this ever came out…better a live rabbit than a dead stool pigeon”

She stared at him in disbelief. “ David my dear…of all the nincompoop ideas I ever heard from you…this is the most hilarious one…you can’t be serious…c’mon tell me you’re just joking” she retorted. He picked up a grass and put it into the corner of his mouth. “ No my beloved…it’s quite simple….if you can make love to women…organizing orgies…having sex before marriage…then I suppose Africa isn’t such a hilarious idea after all…what you say? He laconically answered. She gaped at him, and at first started to giggle, then turned into a hysterical laugher. He looked at her.” What’s so damn funny?” he asked. She shook her head.” What on earth are you going to do down there in the wild…screw the chimps?” and again she burst into laugher. “ Very funny…very funny…ha…ha…ha” he scoffed at her .She wiped the tears from her eyes.” No serious…why Africa…to do what?”

He inhaled deep.” Vicky…. when I first came here today…it wasn’t because I was lonely. That was only a cover-up…I came to tell you that I want to leave for Africa…but did not know what you will say…thought you’ll burst into tears…y’know?” She shook her head.” But I did…didn’t you see…it was a good laughter” David felt like smacking her.” I am serious…why are you taking it as a joke?” She stopped laughing.” I am also serious David…you are a good man…good looking, strong silent type…a gentleman…but this…. it’s a fool’s game you want to play. How long do we know each other…. three. Maybe four years…I like you…even maybe love you a lot…but if you want to run your life your way…I am not going to stop you…” and she turned her head not to face him. He watched her, as she kept looking the other way. Suddenly she flew around and slammed him with her fists. “ I love you, you damn bastard…. why the hell do you want to leave me now…. are you so bloody stupid not to see how I want you…yes…I dreamed about making love to you…having babies…but you could’ve waited a few years…but no…now you want to piss off to Africa… to screw god knows what or who…damn you…damn you!!!”She sobbed and burst into tears in her hands. David was stunned. He didn’t expect such an outburst.

It was mid-day when they decided to go back to the house. Victoria calmed down, and David supported her. As they entered the house, Victoria turned to him on the pouch.” I love you…will you marry me someday?” she asked. David looked her straight in the eye.” Yes my dear…I promise- without the few little extras you’ve got in store” She kissed him long and full on the lips.” You still are going to do Carol tonight…promise…I owe her that…for old times sake…we shared a lot in our lives. And I want this occasion to be the last and the best…O.K?”she asked. David smiled at the weird idea.” All right…I’ll do it for you” he said.” Passionate!” she replied.”O.K…if that’s what you want” he replied with a shake of the head, and they entered the silent house. Victoria went upstairs to arrange the spectacle and David slumped into a easy chair at the fireplace.

He just stared in front of him.” What a hell of a day this turned out to be. He felt such a fool. Thinking he came to do the gentleman thing…expecting her to collapse in his arms…sobbing with grief…him offering his handkerchief…in the meantime… if this little adventure ever came to light…it will be him that will be sobbing with grief…he could imagine what mother will say…not even to think about the old man…and old McTaggard! That human gorilla will tear him limb from limb. Why ever in the world did he agree? What stopped him from pulling out and just disappear? He has no reason to stay…no motive…who will stop him?” As he was about to stand up, Victoria came down the stairs, smiling.” O, David..” she purred. “…You are not going to believe this! Caroline said she will be here in about fifteen minutes…and guess what?” David shook his head. He really does not want to know what, but out of curiosity asked her what.” Caroline will be bringing Jenny Thornton as well…isn’t that sweet…it will be a real banger tonight!” she gloated in ecstasy.

David felt his whole world tumbling in front of him. Jenny Thornton…. the mayor’s youngest daughter! He stared at her in total horror.” Jenny Thornton…Jenny…o no.. Vicky…Vicky…. who the hell else do you want to invite…. Her Royal Highness the princess maybe….or maybe you want to phone Whitehall for back-ups…just in case you will not be able to be sufficient….god…why don’t you phone the Herald…let me do everything with legs excluding your furniture….o my lord…this is getting from bad to worse…what do you think I am…a stud or something…o my goodness…I think I am going to faint..o no” he bitterly complained, and went slumping back into the chair. He realized he should’ve got up and went when he wanted to…now he really is in a mess. Victoria sat down on the chair next to him.” David. you really worry too much…just leave it up to me…what are you complaining about…how many men do you know that have the chance of banging three beautiful girls at the same time in one fabulous night?” He groaned miserably. “ Yea…and how many men do you know that has a chance of three enraged daddies banging their faces and castrating them in one fabulous night…not even to mention the fabulous time the other chaps will have on his expense….I can see the banners…Stud of the stables…Banger of the bangers-o dear…o dear…why me…why did I ever got out of bed?” She bent over and kissed him on the forehead, squeezing his sore shaft tenderly.” You worry too much…both Caroline and Jenny need a man…they are dying to feel a man inside their small entrances…we talked about it a lot…. both of them are still on the finger …relax now…I will order the drinks for tonight…and plenty of beer…. we want a lot of excitement going around” and she disappeared into the lobby.

CHAPTER 19

Jim Turney whistled as he set foot North -East for Nairobi. The skirmish with the poachers, the closing of the borders, and the occupation of Nairobi International have left Jim with a feeling of revenge towards the new regime. For days now he followed the articles in the newspapers, saw the up rise taking control of the population, suppressing resistance, looting, butchering and murdering of local people. Thus far, Jim had no interest into the domestic problems of the country…it was too far away from home, and besides, he was only visiting for a few days, never expecting to be caught in the middle of these exaggerating circumstances. To try to cross the border would be certain suicide, sitting around, waiting to be executed was not his cup of tea either. The only possible way to survive in this chaotic bloody circus is to take a hand in the proceedings himself, join the fight, returning the marauders the favor they currently are dishing out. He needs more guns and ammunition, more firepower and assistance. If he had to build a small army himself to wipe these bastards out, by god, then he will do it. This country’s backdoor is now as wide open as a garage door for all kinds of scum and gremlins that might crawl out of the slime pits from this and other countries, and they will not stop until they have raped and destroyed the total wealth of this place. He will stop them as far as need to be, destroy the vermin that tries to infiltrate and infest this society. The first step will be to raise a small, but effective mercenary army, loot firepower, vehicles and proviant. They will move like ghosts from liar to liar, shadowing and pursuing the germs, destroying them where they find them. They will fight them on every terrain, wiping out as many as possible, building a resistance component that will be a force to be reckoned with, and act as merciless as they do with no mercy taken or given. They will strike them with deadly effectiveness, looting them, murdering them and raping their strongholds!

Jim smiled at the possibility and chance to be on the aggressive platform for once. He must get to Nairobi National Bank and withdraw all his earnings, a healthy sum of twenty three thousand pounds and some shillings. He precisely knew where to tap the black market for battle wears and guns, thus much he built his network through the years of dealing here. He can supply a reasonable strong force at the prices he will pay at this moment. He just need stock until they hit their first donators, and from there on the Kenyan gorillas and government troops will supply them, somewhat against their better judgment and will, with the rest of the logistics…but who the hell cares…dead men don’t tell tales, tit for tat. That is…. the strongest survives…a kind of dog eats dog world. He spun the jeep into the main dirt road and gunned the accelerator, nearly colliding with another oncoming vehicle. A green Army Land rover swerved wildly to get out of his way, and did some bushwhacking through the long grass.

Jim stomped hard on the brakes and watched in total fascination as the other vehicle bounced off the track in a dust cloud and rocketed over an anthill, crashing into the tall grass, and in the process offloading a partly covered stiff corpse in a blanket in mid air from the open back. To his utter amazement, he saw the stiff throwing a silver object in his direction. Jim followed the object with his eyes, and in disbelief stared at a harmonica that landed on his jeep’s bonnet! After some more cavorting with Mother Nature, the crashing vehicle came to a sickening halt against a fallen tree trunk. Dust clouds hung over the hapless vehicle. For a long moment there was absolute silence. Neither of the parties seems to make a move. Regaining his senses, Jim gingerly got his Uzi as fast as he could from the passenger seat and cocked it, aiming at the other vehicle, at the ready to blast the occupants to smithereens should they gaggle a wrong tune. To Jim’s utter amazement, a white man in khaki and vilt hat emerged in a disarray from the cabin, holding his head. Jim slowly lowered his weapon, and jumped out to investigate the strange scene. He walked up to the other man.” Ah say…what the hell exactly happened back there…an’ who the hell are you…what’dya doing here… what’s with the stiff… and the harmonica.. Ye an’ crow or something… on your way to sing the last lullaby?” he bombarded the still dazed occupant.

The other man slowly looked up.” Howdy partner…ye always babbling that much? Carr is the name…. Carr Hardley…un who the blazes taught you to drive like a fucking lame Dingo…ye nearly smashed me head on the dashboard cobber” the other replied painfully. Jim suddenly smiled and dropped his head.” Now what’dya know…a flaming Aussie! Of all the Waco’s I could’ve bump into…a damn Aussie…here in this forgotten hellhole…what a setup to run into…an Aussie, a stiff and a harmonica…now I’ve seen it all! Don’ ye think ye strayed a bit far yonder from good old Brisbane pal? He asked laconically. Carr watched him straight in the eye. “ By the look of it…ah would nah say ya belong to these habitats either…list’ning ta ya lingo… an’ ah’ve being here quite a few seasons…running the local air shuttle around these parts. As for you…ah would recon you are mighty lost ‘round hereabouts too. Where ya heading by the way?” Carr asked while he bent down to replace the deceacesed Dr. Masirere in honor.

Jim strolled forward to assist him in his ghoulish task. “Jim Turney’s the name…an’ I’m on my way to Nairobi…. got some business to tend to…and for lost…ah would say you are in no better position by the look of that axle down yonder…snapped ah would say…. by the way…who the hell is the stiff…some far removed relative?” he asked with a wry grin. Carr laughed at him. “ A real joker ye are mate…. that’s fair dinkum…him…naaah…old friend of mine from up north…being squatted by them government monkeys ‘bout sixty miles back…. ambushed that is… took a few spalpeens maself…he was a good bloke…knew him from way back in ’57…just would like to give him a decent burial” Carr said with a slight emotion in his voice.

Jim watched Carr for a long while. “Sorry partner ….did not know ye were that closely attached…I thought you were at least a couple of generations removed…. tell ye what though…what say we go back to those apes back there…and finish the job you messed up, then we take the vehicles…and scaddadle for Nairobi. Where ye going to by the way?” Carr pointed towards the South. “ Must meet a bunch of South Africans an’ local farmers at Kisumu…on their way back to the Republic…agreed to transport their womenfolk and children by air…knew a couple of ‘em. I was on ma’ way there when ma damn plane crashed North of Meru…had to hitch a ride with the old man…now…gawd…I don’t even know what to do now…ah still have ma farm and three transporters plus a biplane at the ‘port…but how the dang blazes do a man get back there this minute? This ‘ere ‘drover looked mighty beat up now! Ah might rescue the plane in the marshes…but for business forward…ah dunna know if it will go on…too bloody hectic nowadays…” Carr replied with a strange lonesome tone in his voice. Jim watched him and felt sorry for the Aussie. After a moments silence, he looked the other man in the eye.” Tell ye what…I dunno if this may help, it may sound a bit psycho, but why don’t ye join me… an’ together we set up a pack of Mercenaries ye’ know…I’ll supply the ‘munitions an’ guns…an’ ye can supply the air force. We can pick up strays along the way to join us…an’ with yer know how of these terrains we c’n go an’ whack these bastards for a change…whadd’ya say…partners?”

Carr gave Jim a cynical grin,- and stood there, thinking for a long while. Eventually he lifted his head with the same devilish grin on his dirty face.” Ye mighty serious ‘bout this…ah mean the sergeant tin ribs shit an’ all that eh?” he questioned. Jim slowly shook his head.” Dead serious pal…dead serious..Ye coming?” Carr thought again for a moment. He then looked into the clouds and along the horizon. With a vicious kick to a small branch he turned to Jim.” Ah what the hell…ma’ business is screwed anyways…might as well join ya in ye jolly Sergeant Pepper’s band outing I ‘sppose…will do no harm” he answered with a sigh. Jim walked up to him and stretched out a friendly hand. “ Thanks…welcome to the pack” he said and patted the other on the shoulder.” C’mon, let’s pack ye stuff an’ the old one on my jeep an’ get going…sun’s dropping fast, we got some fish to fry before nightfall” he said with a fatherly tone.

Carr looked at him squint eyed.”Pack? We first have t’ screw the pooch to start a damn litter ‘fore we c’n talk of a pack mate! Yer a good sport..ah c’n say that much….I like ya” As they turned around to start packing, Carr’s red mongrel came from the back of the Land rover, gnarling at Jim. Carr shouted and patted him on the side.” Ho…down boy…he’s nah so bad once ye know him..Exept for the face that is!” he commanded the canine, referring to Jim and the dog sat down, still watching Jim with suspicion. Jim smiled at Carr, pointing at the dog. “ Got any more surprises inside that I should know of…?” Carr shook his head.” Nah…not that I know of…on the other hand…ma mate was a vet…maybe ya’ll find a viper or so…but nothing serious..” he answered as he started to unload the bags in the Land rover. Jim shook his head. “Stiffs, mongrels ,flying harmonicas…. this is gonna be one helluva trip ah recon..” he exclaimed with a grin on his face as he turned to aide the other.

It was noon when the two of them eventually turned for Nairobi. Carr told Jim of his past events. Jim acknowledges and told Carr of the situation they found themselves in. They decided that they would get to Carr’s plane and see what the damage was. They then would get to the capital as soon as possible, get the money, spare parts for the plane and stocks, and get the hell out of the territory. They would then return to the plane and do the necessary repairs if it is salvageable, then set for Kisumu straight away by air after they have contacted the trek. Along the way they will land at the airstrip at Carr’s farm to swap the biplane for a DC 3, then fly to Kisumu to get the trekkers. As soon as they can, they will head for South Africa and do the unloading, whereupon they will return to start the modifications on the planes for the coming bush war. They figure that they would be able to cross the border quick and land on a remote veldt next to Beitbridge on the South African side of the border, seeing that without the legal documents they would not be able to stay.

Jim was without a passport, and Carr without his Kenyan immigration papers. To conclude…it would only be one hell of a knock and drop exercise, getting their wings clipped by trees, hopping over the border, unloading the passengers and hop back if they didn’t want to get shot down by the Rhodesian or South African Air Forces, the only two countries that pose a threat and have the capability to trace their aircraft with radar. It was the South Africans that might pose the biggest threat…their Impala or Mirage fighters taking off from Hoedspruit Air Force Base at the Rhodesian border, intercepting them while still in Rhodesian airspace, and with the two air forces, one behind and one in front, they would be in a peculiar spot. Those chappies would blow them to hell and back if they by accident stirred a hornets nest, for the South African fighter pilots are rated among the worlds best, their fighters fast, effective and armed with deadly air-to-air missiles.

They would have their work cut out fine, and hug the treetops as far as possible, criss crossing borders, evading radar contact, refuelling amid all this in some or other country, hoping not to get shot to pieces by ground fire across the other African countries, or by ground to air missiles. The best part would be that it would be done unscheduled and unauthorized by anybody, the IAAF, any country or any government. If this caper could be pulled off, they could flaming well do anything they want. This was the biggest stunt Carr, or anybody he knew, ever tried. Carr knew a couple of private pilots from the region that he thinks would join them in the struggle, but they first had to pull off this stunt.

They sped northeast for about two hours when they noticed the same Bedford truck that ambushed Carr and Dr. Masirere still standing in the road…still bugged down by the ruptured tires. They saw the remaining ambushers sitting around in the midday sun, waiting for God knows who or what. Luckily the offenders did not notice the oncoming jeep thanks to the many curves and long grass, and that eased the situation. Jim swerved off the road immediately and brought the Jeep to a standstill between the tall Kikuyu grass. He stopped about two hundred meters from the others and cut the engine. Silently he and Carr got out of the Jeep. Jim indicated to him to subdue his dog, for it might be a dead giveaway. Carr fastened Rusty, and Jim handed Carr the two Berettas.” Y’know how to use these babies?” he asked softly. Carr smiled.” Y’recon I’m stupid…. been long enough in this country to know how to handle anything!” he retorted. Jim gave him the weapons and two boxes of ammunition.” Better make every shot count…ye ain’t shooting wallabies y’know” he teased. Carr just shook his head.” If it was wallabies…I recon ah would’ve had a fair fight on me hands…but those wallabies down under are wee bit more intelligent than those monkeys sitting over yonder” he said with confidence. They loaded their weapons and Jim opened his bag of tricks, emerging with the Mills 36 hand grenades. Carr watched in surprise as he placed them on the bonnet.” What the hell as those for?” he asked somewhat bewildered. Jim grinned sadistically.” Now come on my friend…you don’t expect us to throw a cocktail party without a few delicious pineapples. Now do you?” he asked with a broad grin. Carr only could gape at him. “ Ye really are a mean piece o’ handiwork…ain’t ya…. but O.K…. ah s’ppose you are the cook….ye know what ya wanna prepare fa supper…let’s go” he said and cocked the pistols.

Carr and Jim decided to sneak upon the soldiers from each side of the road, a frontal attack by Carr with his pistols and a grenade or two in order to draw the enemy fire, and then Jim would emerge from behind the soldiers, surprising them and blast them with machine gun and grenades. They would attack in such a way to keep out of each other’s line of fire and not to damage the truck, for they needed the diesoline for the Jeep. So said. so done. Carr jumped the road and hugged the ground in stealth mode towards the soldiers. Jim would give the appropriate sign to start peppering the soldiers. He hugged close to the ground, using the tall grass as cover until he was about parallel fifteen yards from their target. Carr counted seventeen soldiers in all, squatting around the vehicle. He then crouched to the ground and crawled up until he was ten or so meters away from the nearest soldier. He stopped and waited for Jim. The grass on the other side obscured the latter.

Carr peered to the other side for a long moment, and just as he thought Jim had struck bad luck, he saw him emerging five or so yards behind the truck, giving him the thumbs-up. Car silently rose from the grass, grenade in the hand. He pinpointed the biggest group of soldiers to get maximum results, inhaled, and pulled the pin. “ Old timer…this is for ye…wish ye could see this” he muttered and counted to five, hurling the grenade, then ducked into the grass again with the pistols in his hands cowboy-style. The next moment there was a blinding flash, followed by an ear-splitting explosion. Carr saw bodies flung through the air. Immediately he discarded the second grenade to the other soldiers that staggered upright in bewilderment, sending them reeling in all directions, then another bang followed. Carr remained crouched and let fly with the pistols, pulling the triggers as fast as he could, blasting anything that remotely dare to move. He saw soldiers diving in all directions, and heard another bang as Jim joined the chaos. He heard the staccato as the Uzi started to announce its death song from the other side. Soldiers buckled and dropped like flies as they were mowed down from two sides. One individual was about to raise his AK-47, but got ripped apart from both sides. Silence fell and Carr cautiously watched every movement for hidden soldiers, but none emerged. After a spell of five minutes or so, Jim slowly emerged from behind the truck. A wounded soldier moaned and tried to stagger upright, only to be relieved of his agony by Jim showering him with a short deadly burst. The soldier slumped back to the ground and remained still. Carr stood up and emerged from his position.

Cautiously they checked all around, inspecting each body for life, and then only did they relax their weapons. Carr lit a cigarette and leaned against the bumper of the truck. Jim checked the cabin and back, but they had done their grim job efficiently. Carr was shaking slightly.” Gawd…that felt good…. not one wee shot fired in return…we surely took these buggers by surprise…na that’s what ah call a real ambush” he said with relief. Jim squatted next to one soldier, relieving him of a RPG hand missile.” Nasty little fuckers these” he said and inspected the weapon. They rested a few minutes, and collected their first contribution from the new Kenyan government, loading all the weapons and ammunition onto the Jeep. They collected hand grenades, bullets, three RPG launchers and a couple of other proviant. Jim took out two “ Jerry cans” and a hose, whereupon they drained the diesel tanks of the truck. Jim then placed a diesel soaked piece of cloth into the tank with the remaining diesoline, and lit it. These they cannot take, they destroyed…no need to leave something for the enemy to use. Happily they got into the Jeep and set for the vicinity where the plane crash-landed. As they drove off, they heard a mighty explosion as the truck went up in flames. Laughingly, they slapped hands. Their first contact as a newly formed team went off quite to their satisfaction.

The trip to the crash site went off uneventful. They drove for nearly four hours when at last they came to the spot where the hapless plane still rested on it’s back in the long grass. Jim stopped the Jeep and they clambered out, stiff and sore. Carr walked up to the plane. The ground sucked up most of the water, and the marsh was one hell of a mud hole with a little puddle in the middle. The Neiva was stranded on its back, tail stuck into the ground. Carr inspected the plane. Except for a shattered windscreen, bended propeller and a slightly damaged cowling, the plane came off the mishap quite unscathed. Carr walked up to Jim. “ She looks all right…she does…nah too much damage ba the look of it…. ah recon if we c’n pull her upright, tamper a bit…then she will fly again. We’ll have to get a new propeller though ah recon…once one of those are damaged, it’s tickets..ye canna use ‘em again…windscreen….no problem..c’n get one of those at ‘robi international…cowlings O.K ah recon” he gave the damage report. Jim eyed him curiously. “ Funny lot, ye fly birds…. yell fly the biggest lot of junk up there an still somehow land safe…by the looks of. We’re mighty lucky this time…long grass cushioned most of the impact.” He stretched himself out.” So, how long d’ya recon it will take to repair this flying junkyard?” Carr shrugged.” Mebbe hour…hour an’ a half at the most if ah c’n get the spares…yea…shouldn’t take much more” he answered. Jim did some calculations. It will take him two hours at the most to Nairobi, one hour to do the necessary shopping and two hours back; that gives five…give or take. If he is correct with the time, they should be in the air round about six to six thirty. He walked to the Jeep and produced a nylon rope.

He formed a loop on the one side and threw it over the tail wheel, the other he fastened to the bumper of the Jeep. He started the vehicle and slowly drives forward until the rope was taut. He got out and called Carr. “ O.K partner…we haven’t got much time. I will pull the plane with the Jeep- you wait until the tail lifts, and then you heave it very slowly upwards. That way we will be able to turn it back on her wheels without causing too much damage…the grass ought to buffer her fall. In the back I have a piece of normal rope…not too long, but it will work. Fasten it to the wheel as well. The idea is to pull the rope tight as soon as she tumbles over…it should break her fall…O.K?” he asked. Carr thought for a moment.” Ah recon it might work….’sides…ah don’t see any other way round this problem” He did as Jim suggested, and they started to heave the little plane onto her wheels.

As Jim predicted, the plane just tumbled over, landing with a slight “ bump” onto the grass. The only sound was the broken Perspex pieces tumbling inside the craft. Jim then started to pull her out of the marsh onto the dry road. As soon as she was on dry ground, Carr inspected the engine. All seems right except for fuel that leaked onto the engine. He traced the source, and found the root of the crash…the feulpipe got loose from the carburetor due to a broken circlip…that the reason why the engine had cut out. He just shook his head.” O.K pal…time to go” he announced and they set out for Nairobi as fast as possible.

It took them nearly six hours to do the round trip and they arrived at seven fifteen back at the plane. Jim had time to do his withdrawal and deliver the body of Dr. Masirire at a mortician, and then raced for the airport. They were able to get a windscreen, but the propeller had to be cannibalized from a relic Cessna in one of the hangars. The technician said that the grooves on the propeller would fit around the grooves on the shaft of the Neiva. Carr bought a packet of circlips and a meter of fuel pipe at the airport…and a couple of beers. At arrival, he got his spanners out of the loading bay, and realizes the vaccine was still there; the orderly never came to fetch it. He replaced the propeller without trouble, and then he and Jim fitted the windscreen and rubberized it. It took the all in all about forty-five minutes. Luckily the light was still good this time of the year. Carr clambered into the aircraft after they added eighty liters of gasoline. He pushed the throttle to idle and turned the ignition. The screw turned lazily for a few seconds, died, and turned again. At the fourth try the old engine coughed and kicked in. Carr played with the throttle a few times, testing the revolutions, but she responded well. He turned her up wind and shut her to idling speed. He got out and they packed the luggage from the jeep into the plane.

At last they were ready, and after fastening their safety belts, Carr pushed the throttles wide open. The little plane bounced over the rough terrain until they reached 120 knots, whereby Carr pulled the joystick backwards, sending the nose into the air. It felt as if the plane hung for a moment, but then she clawed her way into the blue sky. Jim looked worried as he tapped Carr on the shoulder. “ Ye sure ye know how to fly this crate…especially if it gets dark?” he asked. Carr grinned.” Ah mebbe an dump Aussie…. but this bird an ah ‘ave been mates for quite a span…ya dunna worry mate…she’s fair dunkum…..ah dun a couple o’ instrument sorties” he reassured Jim. They ploughed through the dim sky for two hours when at last Carr dipped the wing and started to circle, spiraling downwards. Jim felt so airsick; he nearly puked in the plane. Carr watched him and laughed. “ Hold ye breath mate…hold ye breath…we’re nearly there…. look to the port side…that’s ma big babies over yonder” and he pointed to the other aircraft parked in a row next to a make shift runway below them. Jim refused to look down, and kept his eyes closed. Carr dropped the plane and approached upwind to the gravel strip. The little biplane hopped and bounced as he set the wheels on the narrow strip. He cut the throttles back and maneuvered the plane so that it was neatly parked next to the other light plane, then cut the engine. He looked arrogantly at Jim, sitting next to him as sick as a dog. “ C’mon mate…out you go…ah told you it was a piece of cake…let’s get some chau…I’m mighty thin” Jim couldn’t hold it any longer, and stormed into the veldt…. throwing up to his hearts desire, while Carr laughingly strolled to his little house.

Carr and Jim had barbeque and porridge, downed by a couple of beers before they prepared their belongings and packed for the next day, and went to bed near midnight. Early at five the next morning found Carr refueling his DC3 Transporter. He used the other for cargo. Jim only came by as Carr started the Avro Lyncoming engines to test the revolutions, oil pressure, gauges, flaps and so on…doing a pinpoint check for the long flight.

He loaded five 100-gallon drums with aviation fuel just in case of emergency. Jim walked up to the Dakota and waited while Carr tested the plane. Carr saw him and invited him to join him on the flight deck, minding the propellers. Jim clambered into the cockpit and sat next to Carr in the co-pilot’s seat, admiring the way Carr handled all the switches, lights and levers. To him it looked like a maze of instruments. He watched for a while and turned to Carr.” One thing I must admit….you can fly a plane better than driving a bloody Land rover” Carr laughed.” Yea…mebbe…but then again….I dunna have the maniacs up there that I have down ‘ere” he retorted and carried on with his instrument checks. Jim watched him in respect.” How the hell do ye manage all this meters, gears and stuff…it looks mighty complicated to me?” Carr just shrugged his shoulders. “ Nah…used to ‘em…them meters ‘ere and that in front o’ you are the same…basic flying instruments…got two sets o’ each…in case the spare jockey had to take the controls…. this ‘ere in the middle are the engine gauges…’ere the throttles…’ere on the roof the power switches, engine switches an’ so on…nothing really” he answered, and explained the pre flight procedures to ensure their own safety, regulations, radio procedures and navigation. Jim just gaped at him.” You wouldn’t say a damn Wallaby could get all this in his brain…I would’ve flunked out long ago…ye’re a marvel Aussie…ye really are…I like that” After the routine checks were completed, they loaded their gear, food and emergency equipment on board. Jim saw to it that they also loaded guns and a RPG with nine missiles.

On Carr’s request, he explained that it would be necessary, should they encounter problems, had to land, and was pestered by the one or other African renaissance fighter…it may come in handy. Carr warned that he must steer clear with those weapons from the aviation fuel. When at last everything was done, they contacted Kisumu hotel by using the phone in Carr’s house and informed the hotel of their estimated time of arrival, then Carr taxied the aircraft to the runway, parked it and shut the engines down. He saw Jim’s puzzled look. “ We only will be leaving at three..Canna dare to try and fly by day….too much problems with the locals if we cross the border. We will have to do low flying most o’ the time to stay clear of ‘em radar….do some tree scraping, border hopping. an’ ah dunna want to get whacked by one o’ those buggers ye loaded wee back. We will do some night flying down south…. instruments ye know…. much safer ah recon” he concluded. Jim thought for a moment, and realized the motive behind the Aussie’s madness. They clambered out and decided to rest as much for the rest of the day to have enough energy for the night. The rest of the day they slept, hanged around, check here, do that, washed, ate and went to the local merchant to buy proviant for the long flight and beer…plenty of beer. At ten to four they boarded the plane and took off for Kisumu. Jim was surprised by the ease that Carr used to handle the big plane…like driving a truck Carr said. Jim watched as the landscape became smaller and smaller as they ascend to ten thousand feet and set course for Kisumu.

CHAPTER 20

Newly appointed general Daniel Nangaru goose-stepped in measured strides up and down in his new office, staring blindly in front of him. The fan turned lazily and the smell of British imperialism still clenched the air. Nangaru puffed on the Havana cigar in his mouth as a important man should. At the door his second in command, colonel Ephraim Duwenza and a lieutenant stood like mummies, waiting for new orders. Word has reached them that a whole platoon of their guard was ambushed and killed on the road to Tshavu, and the truck burned. This was no good news to the general, who so much want to show his superiors that he was a man that can control the renegade whites and their cohorts. He did expect some feeble resistance, but an act like this, a whole platoon being wiped out, was not on the agenda. This blatant aggression by the perpetrators reflects badly on his record as commander in the region, and must be set straight as soon as possible.

He was born in the Nanyuki region, had a hard childhood, never had any futuristic dreams, and grew up as a stray. At the age of seventeen he joined the guerillas fighting the Tanzanian government, but with the upcoming rebellion in Kenya, quickly joined the Kenyan Defense Force of Jomo Kenyatta. As a freedom fighter with experience, he was appointed as general, with pay and a neat house, thanks to his Mau-Mau connection. He is a very proud and sees himself as a respected man, and a man known for his intelligence among his soldiers and an excellent strategist. The actual fact was that Nangaru was a murderous psychopath, swindler and led a life of killing, stealing and blackmailing in the armed forces.

He was a cold and merciless killer, executed his opponents for this sought after position without the higher hieragy even noticing it. One of his wives had a panga slashed in her head for questioning him about his affairs with another woman in a nearby village, and one of his fathers in law was brutally murdered for disagreeing on a political matter. He was well known for the trail of blood that shadowed him wherever he went. In his home village there was silent rumors of his connection to cannibalism, but nobody dared to speak up in fear of being the following meal. He had slightly slant eyes, was pudgy, bald and had a bad temper. Furthermore did he not take to any opposing suggestions, and dealt with little problems like sub ordinance the real African way. He had no school education and couldn’t count. His aunt taught him to read and write a bit, but that was as far as scholastic proceedings went. He watched movies in his spare time of the Second World War, and was a stern believer in Pres. Bokassa of the Ivory Coast.

Nangaru strolled to the big map hanging on the eastern wall, clasping his military staff in his hands behind his back. His uniform was neatly pressed, decorated with medals he took from the military store in Mombassa, not that he knew the types of decorations he pasted on his left breast…. to him, and the other laymen, it looked impressive…and that’s all that counted. Like an Adolf Hitler of the sixties, he paraded towards the map, studied it, and turned to his two henchmen at the door. He cleaned his throat and tried to look important. “My comrades….I see myself as a passionate man…I respect life…but if life is not respected…how then do you respect it” he opened his important speech. With his staff he tapped on the map. “ Gentlemen…. according to our reports the soldiers was killed here…”and he tapped on the spot on the map. “ Another vehicle…a Jeep was parked here..” and he tapped again on the map. “ Somebody killed some of our comrades here…” and again he tapped on the spot that indicates Tshavu. “ As you can see…. this was not just by accident…it was deliberate planned attacks. These soldiers were brave men of the resistance, and their deaths must be avenged. They were brutally slaughtered while doing their duty by safeguarding our people. They fought like heroes, to the death trying to protect the poor helpless people, but the odds were overwhelming, and the enemy too many. They will be honored as heroes of the resistance. They gave their blood to their country and died a valiant death by the murdering whites. Let their brave action be a symbol to others to follow in their footsteps, and free Africa for once and for all of the filthy intruders…hail Kenyatta!!!” and he saluted the portrait of the latter on the wall.

“I want to know who did it. I can tell you now; it is the white dogs that still try to run our country that killed these young heroes that only tried to help in vain that same whites who murdered them. Our soldiers tried to protect the game at Tshavu against white poachers, but no, they were also murdered in the line of their respected duty, together with the helpless animals found killed on the scene. I will not rest until the pigs that have done this are caught and punished!” and he shook his fist with pretended fury. “ Your task, gentlemen, is to get our troops ready for battle, get our forces together, and seek these white dogs and their slaves that did this, and bring them to me. I will show the world, and our respected leader, that I will destroy our enemy wherever I found them. You will report to me tomorrow at three o’clock with the pigs. If not so gentlemen, I don’t see any further need of your services…the blood of our dead brothers are calling upon you to bring justice to them…is that understood?” he concluded his speech.

He looked to himself in the mirror behind the door. He felt good about his pep speech; he truly was an educated leader. Duwenza and his subordinate looked at each other. They haven’t got a clue what Nangaru was babbling about, nor did they know where the forces was he referred to., or the weapons. Neither had a clue as to whom they were supposed to arrest and bring to justice, or where they were supposed to look for, but one thing they understood, was that if by tomorrow at three o’ clock if there was no white murderer standing in front of Nangaru…neither would they be either. Smartly they saluted as they were taught, and left the office in a hurry to go and seek for the white murderers somewhere in the vast expansion of Kenya.

CHAPTER 21

It was not very long before the desk jockey came down the stairs and ran into the lobby where Baus and Len were sipping their beer in silence, resting from the day’s turmoil. The poor bastard was exhausted and out of breath. He halted next to Len, and waited a few moments to catch his breath. “ It’s O.K now master…. we have the rooms for the master…the manager he says that we can prepare the old lounge for the master….I will go now and get the staff to make the room nice…then the master he can go and sleep in nice room…plenty of beds…and the manager said if any trouble. Please call…you see…we look after respected guests…O.K master?” he puffed with a grin on his small face. Len looked at Baus. “ What do you think…can we trust the little bugger?” Baus shrugged his shoulders. “ Los die donner laat hy tog net klaar maak” Baus answered somewhat irritated in Dutch, meaning that Len must leave the bugger to proceed with his self appointed task. Len indicated with his hand that the assistant must proceed, and laid back onto the chair, eyes closed. Baus was about to take another sip of his beer when doctor Lowe entered the lobby and sat down, visibly tired. Baus ordered a whiskey for the practitioner and enquired about the autopsy. Dr. Lowe just shook his head. “ It wasn’t a good sight my friend…it never is. The girl’s aorta was ruptured and the panga sliced into her lungs…no way that she could’ve recover from such an injury…the same applied for the other two…death was imminent…I am sorry” the old doctor ended and received his whiskey from the bartender with thanks.

For a long moment there was an absolute silence, as if the men were in mourning about the ordeal that be felled them. Eventually Dr. Lowe looked up. “ God, this is terrible…so terrible…so unnecessary…why?” the old man questioned to nobody in particular. Baus looked at him, and sipped his beer. Len just kept in silence; words failed them, but were unnecessary in any case. The three men sat each with their own memories for quite a while, and then Baus stood up to call the rest of the party. Time is running out and the rest of the people were tired. One by one they filed into the lobby to get something to eat and drink. The porter showed them the way to their hastily prepared quarters and the bathrooms. While the womenfolk went upstairs to wash, the men gathered downstairs to talk and have a few drinks. At eight supper was served in the dining room, and the trekkers had a good meal for the first time in three days. At ten, most of the people sorted themselves out as to who is sleeping where, and hit the sack to get at least one night’s good sleep afore they will be on the road again. A few of the men still hung around the bar, trying to drown their bad luck, but at around twelve even they had to stagger to their sleeping places.

Sharp at five the cleaners woke the party for breakfast. Like a bunch of zombies they struggled to get going. The morning routine of bathing, shaving and cleaning up took almost one and a half hour, and still there were no sign of Carr Hardley. One by one the men filed out to the vehicles to get them roadworthy again, tank up and repair small defectives. They decided to hang around town until they receive word from Carr. It was at ten fifteen when the attendant at the desk informed them that he had a call from Carr that they will be arriving at round about four, and the trekkers must meet him at the landing strip at Kisumu. He requested that the woman and children be at the ready to fly out, as it would be a quick touch down and take off. He sent four thousand pounds for the bowzer’s gasoline and hotel costs for the driver. Suddenly there was a buzzing between the trekkers as each one prepared him or her. Drivers were re-arranged, goods repacked and rearranged. Nine drivers and five surplus drivers were to stay behind and take the convoy through to South Africa, whilst the rest, in all fourteen women and kids, were taken to the landing strip. At two o’clock they dispersed after a hearty meal, and dropped the woman and kids at the landing strip. One of the men stayed with them to ensure their safe transit, while the other returned to the hotel to make last minute arrangements. It was in the lobby that things suddenly took another unexpected turn. Everybody was having a drink. They decided to leave early the next morning, for it was too late to do anything anymore. Nobody was foolish enough to try and tackle a trip at night, for it definitely would mean death.

As they sat talking in the lobby, Len suddenly stood up and ask the rest for their audience. As everybody stopped talking, Len kept quiet for awhile. He looked at each one of them by turn, and then to the ceiling. “ My friends…I’ve come to a decision. I know it will shock you…and maybe some of you will even be angry at me, but every man must some or another time, take a decision that will influence the rest of his life. I wanted to go with you all the way, but last night as I lied in my bed, I realized that this is my country….I was born here, grew up here…so, why must I run like a scared rabbit? I love this country, and if I go with you…I will always feel empty inside…as if something will always be missing. I belong here…and so does some of you…but I am the one that want to stay….if I am to perish…then so be it. I cannot run or hide from the ultimate decision that lay in the hands of God, but I can take a decision that will be the best for me. it may not be the correct one, but at least if I am to die, it will be in the country that I love….and not in some strange place. I hope you will understand this” he ended and watched the expressions on the other’s faces. They stared at him emotionless, and then to each other.

After a long silence Frank spoke up. “ Len…I know how you feel…and so does all of us, but do you really want to do this…are you sure this was not an emotional decision…will you be O.K…I still will feel better if you come with us…. and I think I can say that goes for all of us…you are our friend…we don’t want to loose you…. c’mon…. what do you think?” he asked in all earnest. Len was quiet for a moment. “ Frank…buddy…. thank you….I know this is not easy. Not for you…and not for me….you can go on…you’ve got families…kids….but me…I’ve got nobody…I’m all by myself…I’ve got nothing to loose…thanks all the same…you go on…I want to stay” he said with watery eyes. Again there was a long silence. Suddenly, but slowly Baus stepped towards Len. He slowly turned around. He looked at the others.” Lads…I’m staying with Len…everybody knows the poor soul can’t look after himself…if it’s O.K with you…I’m also a loner. and I can do more here than down in the Republic.” The rest stared at them in surprise. Again Frank spoke up. “ Are you guys sure this is your final decision? If things go on, nobody will want to leave…what are you two going to do out here?” he asked. Len smiled.” O well…don’t worry…we’ll find something very soon I think” he said and looked at Baus. Frank threw his hands in the air. “ O hell…there goes our surplus drivers for nothing….if that is the way you want it…good luck chaps” and he hugged both of them “ O.K…then we all better go and see the women and kids off, and inform Carr of the new changes in the plan” Frank suggested. They all agree, and at quarter to four they left for the rendezvous point.

At twenty past four the trekkers saw the lumbering Dakota DC3 dropping it’s wheels at the end of the runway. They heard the mighty Avro engines slow down as Carr pulled the throttles back The wheels touched down with a screech, bounced, and touched again. The engines howled as the airplane came to a slow stop and turned towards them. As the plane approached, wind from the huge propellers wiped small items from the luggage, sending them whirling in the air. Carr brought the plane to a standstill twenty or so yards from the trekkers, and dropped the revolutions to idle. A few seconds later the door at the back of the fuselage swung open and steps appeared. A face nobody saw before popped out, and a stranger stepped down, followed by Carr. He introduced the stranger as Jim, and quickly explained above the noise what they intended to do. When he was been told of Baus and Len, he instructed that they must leave for his farm; he will meet them when he and Jim returned. With that they loaded the luggage and after a warm farewell, the women and kids boarded the plane. Carr closed the door when all were settled in, and the passengers waved to their loved ones through the small windows. At last the engines picked up again and they saw Carr in the pilots seat with Jim in the co-pilots seat, waving at them as they turned the plane on it’s back wheel towards the runway, facing the wind. The men heard the Avro engines picking up revolutions as Carr applied full throttle, and saw the plane jump forward as he released the brakes. The plane picked up speed, bounced a bit, lifted the tail, stormed down the far end of the runway and gingerly took to the sky. The Avro’s howled as Carr pushed them for more power, gaining height inch by inch. It took a wide turn - coming back for the runway at tree top height to set for a course due south.When it passed them at low level with a huge roar, Carr wiggled the wings in a farewell gesture. The men all waved at him. The plane then slowly turned southwards and clime until it was only a small spec on the horizon. The men returned to their vehicles and set course for the hotel.

At the hotel they had a bath and ordered drinks. They sat in the bar until eight, and then left for supper, where after they returned to the bar for the rest of the evening until it was time to go to bed. That night the drivers slept restless. The anticipation of taking on the treacherous trip to Nairobi through the western tip f the great river valley brought a sense of uneasiness to all of them. The stretch between Kisumu and Nairobi marked some of the most dangerous strips due to the fact that the rebels wanted to cut off the route between the capital and the port. Nowhere was a better suited place that at the tip of the great river valley where the terrain became mountainous. It would be hard to spot attacks should it be from the higher grounds, and also the non-existent roads that snaked through the huge boulders and crevasses. Trucks and cars would only reach speeds of plus minus thirty kilometers uphill, which would make them vulnerable to ambushes. A further drawback was the fact that Len and Baus withdrew from the group, which lessened their firepower. Last, but not least, was the fact that they would have to face not only rebels, but government troops as well. They better pray to God that none of the vehicles picked up a breakdown. With these thoughts the men went to sleep in a restless nightmare of the future.

At three o’clock Frank and Lauwry woke them. All was quiet, and the only sounds were that of some hooligans doing verbal abusing to each other somewhere in the dusty streets. The drivers quickly got up and assembled their gear. They would drive as far as possible until a few kilometers from the foot of the mountains before they would rest and have something to eat. Frank would take the lead with the Vickers, followed by the rest. There were two spare drivers, one for the front, and one for the back in case of an ambush to add firepower front and rear. At a quarter to four the mighty diesel engines came to life, revving to get the air for the power brakes and hydraulics up to 120 kpa. Frank and Dave checked the Vickers and oiled the parts. They took all the .303 ammunition to the front so to have enough to keep any attacker at bay to give the rest time to assemble. It was just before four o’ clock when the first truck thundered forward, slowly being followed by the rest. The mighty engines sounded like thunder as the five trucks and four small vehicles paced through the warm morning in the silent streets. Here and there you could see curtains drawn apart as sleepy occupants gingerly stared at the source of their disturbance. The drivers could see fires lit as the poorest of the poor were trying to gather around the fires for heat and companionship in a lonely world. It became darker as they started to reach the outskirts of Kisumu, and in the cabins the morning coffee was brought to life. Most of the drivers were still quite tired of the restless night, but duty and responsibility forced them to accept their fate. Most wondered who will on the end of the day never make it, and if they will have at least a smooth ride to Nairobi after the previous disaster that engaged them.

The monotonous rumbling of the diesel engines did not at least help them to stay awake, and many a time windows was opened to let the fresh morning air swipe through the cabins to refresh their numbed minds. Frank advised them to keep their headlights on bright, and keep their weapons at the ready to act at a moment’s notice. A spotlight was mounted on the back-end of the rearguard to keep a vigil lookout for attackers from the back. The spare driver on the back would have to sweep the rear with this strong beam constantly to guard against a surprise attack from the rear. The orange glow of the upcoming sun greeted them on the far distant horizon as they entered the savannahs between the capital and the port…. the most dangerous part of their long journey to freedom.

CHAPTER 22

John wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. It wasn’t cold around these parts, but more out of boredom and routine he did so. Agnes was asleep next to the fire. John had fed the fire to keep it tall in case of predators. He rubbed the semi-automatic for the hundredth time, making sure the safe was off. The fire casted a reddish yellow glow onto the tall grasses around them. Now and then he could hear a soft rush between the grasses as the one or other little veldt animal was scurrying for food or cover. Total silence reigned around him, and John wondered if God was watching him…and who else maybe. He looked around cautiously from time to time to make sure there were no preying eyes watching them. The time now was five to three am, and not even a cricket was heard. No wind blew, and he could hear no animal snorting or big cat roaring…the silence was uncanny and strange. John was uneasy; the previous time he remembered this silence, he nearly was killed. He stood up and shone his torch around, expecting the glint of an eye…but there was nothing. He felt sleepy, but didn’t dare to wink an eye. He watched Agnes as she slept restlessly.

She moaned now and then, and turned a lot in her sleep. John thought of the previous day’s experiences he had with her, and wondered if he had done the right thing…took the right decision…if he really loved this woman that much that he left his future for her. He knew that he had to leave the church because of his adultery against God, but couldn’t get it over his heart to tell her the facts. He hoped in his heart that he did the right thing, for if not, he would be slammed to the abyss of depression and loneliness. He stood up and poured another cup of black coffee, and in silence he drank it. At five he woke her with a cup of the same, and stretched himself to get rid of his stiff muscles.” C’mon sleepy head…time to rise and shine…the day awaits no man” he taunted her. She looked at him. “ Correction…it is time that awaits no man…. and it was said by the writer Orson Wells…. how do you feel?” she retorted smilingly as she herself stretched her arms and took the cup. He inhaled deep and smiled broadly.” As fit as a fiddle…want some breakfast?” he asked. She stood up and folded the sleeping bag she slept in. “ Now that would be fantastic…I’m going for a pee while you can prepare breakfast” and she strolled off to the long grass and disappeared into the bushes. John just nodded and took out some eggs and bacon to fry. The morning was cool and refreshing. He heard the “ Ha haaa…Ha haaa…”call of a Hadiddas bird echoing on the open grassland as he kneeled at the fire.

John tasted the bacon. and his mouth watered by it. He wondered where Agnes was…she has almost been gone for an hour. He wondered if all women took that long to complete their waterworks. He stood up and watched all around if she was somewhere to be seen…but only the grass and silence greeted him. He was getting worried. He placed the frying pan on the ground and quietly unhooked the semi automatic. Suddenly he felt all was not well. He called her name, and again…. but again the silence greeted him. Now he knew trouble was at hand. Slowly he sneaked back to the car and gathered more ammunition. Staying low, he moved in an opposite direction than the one she took returning in a wide circle as not to walk into an ambush. He parted the tall grass and cautiously edged forward, step-by-step, listening and looking. He could only hear the rustle of the grass as his boots cleaved the vegetation. For a nerve wrecking ten minutes he searched until he broke through the tall grasses and emerged in a opening of about thirty meters in diameters. What he saw made his blood ran cold. In front of him was a huge termite heap. Next to the heap was a small ditch. He saw the silhouette of a leg sticking out of the ditch, and instinctively knew he could expect the worst. He crouched to the ground and studied the vicinity, but all was quiet. Slowly he moved towards the ditch. As he got near to the ditch, he recognized the body in the ditch…. Agnes was lying on her stomach, halfway into the ditch, her pants torn from her body, with only her top in place.

John hurried forward and turned Agnes around. Agnes was gagged and bound hands and feet. To John’s relief she was still alive, her eyes were big and scary. Quickly John untied her and removed the piece of cloth from her mouth. Agnes started to cry bitterly and grabbed John around the neck.” They…they raped me…. they raped me….o my god!!” she sobbed hysterical. John looked around and pressed her tight against his chest.” Shhh…it’s O.K…it’s O.K…. calm down…. it’s O.K” he reassured her and hugged her. When at last she calmed down, John wiped the tears from her scary eyes. “ Who did this…where are they?” he asked her whilst stroking her hair tenderly. Agnes looked around bewildered. “ It was soldiers…men in uniform…they grabbed me from behind…gagged me and pressed me to the ground…then two of them took turns to rape me…. o my God…. it’s awful!!” she stammered between the tears. John calmed her again. “ Where are they?” he whispered. She pointed to their right. “ They went that way” John took her hand, and crawled back the way he came. When he reached the spot where the fireplace was, he cautiously peeped through the long grass. He heard some soft whispering in front of him. He indicated to Agnes to keep quiet, and stay put. He slowly opened the grass to see better. In front of him, inspecting the car, was a bunch of soldiers. One of them appeared to be the leader as he wearied some kind of rank on his shoulders. John could feel the anger rose in his body, but he knew he had to be careful…for Agnes sake.

The leader of the group kept on searching the grass in front of them, while the rest started to pull goods from the back of the car. John wondered what to do next. A surprise attack could work, but the chances of hitting the car are too risky. The next moment John heard a loud engine, and suddenly an army truck of some kind full of soldiers busted through the grass. The soldiers jumped off with a frenzied mixture of screams and orders. The one that appears to be the leader shouted something and pointed towards the place Agnes was left. He then said something to the soldiers, and they quickly started to search the area. John realized he sent the soldiers to fetch Agnes, and if they found her gone, they would immediately spread out and search her. They had to get away quickly. He crawled back quickly and grabbed Agnes by the arm. “ Come…quick…we must get away…hurry!!” he told her and they scurried away in a eastern direction. They could hear the dispatched group yelling behind them, and John figured they discovered her disappearance. They quickly ran with their heads down towards the far side where the road made a turn. About four hundred yards down the road they came upon a deep marsh. John halted and peeped through the bushes. The soldiers threw something on the car and the next moment set it ablaze. John sweared softly.

The soldiers mounted the truck, and John saw them moving in circles, shooting short bursts into the grasses. It was obvious they were looking for them. He indicated to Agnes to follow him. They entered the marsh until they were shoulder deep in the water. The water was cold, but bearable. John watched as the soldiers kept on searching. After about an hour, they stopped and stood watching for another twenty or so minutes, then slowly the truck started to move in their direction. John grabbed Agnes by the shoulder, and as the truck appeared around the bend, pushed her down into the water, indicating she must stay down. He himself ducked into the water. The soldiers cautiously searched the area, but no sign was seen of anybody. The commander gave the instruction that they must turn around and search further west. Slowly the truck turned around again and sped towards the south to proceed with the search.

John waited as long as he could, and then slowly submerged under a lot of twigs that floated on the water. He looked around, and saw the truck disappeared around the far side towards his left. He looked around, and realized it was safe. Slowly he rose and tapped Agnes on the head. She came up, gasping for air.” O my god…I couldn’t hold my breath any longer…I thought my lungs are going to burst…o my god…. what are we going to do next?” she babbled out of shock. John started to walk towards the edge. “ They burned the car” he said. Agnes looked at him in dismay. “ What are we going to do…we have no food…and look at my clothes…they are torn apart….I can’t walk like this!….we are miles from the nearest town….our money…o my god…our money!!!” she sobbed. John then quickly rushed to the car. The fire was still burning, but it didn’t ignite the fuel tank. John took his shirt off, wrapped it around his hand, and opened the door. He saw that the cabby was still reasonable unscathed, and pulled it open. By the mercy of God her sachet with her money was still intact due to the confined enclosure. The fire couldn’t reach the inside of the cabby. He grabbed the sachet, and inspected the car. Everything inside was burned to a cinder and useless. He suddenly saw the goods the soldiers threw on the ground whilst they searched the car. They searched through their belongings, and Agnes found her knapsack. “ This is a blessing…I’ve got a spare pant inside….and the pistol with the ammunition” John sprang back to the car where he stashed the ammunition boxes.

The fire was starting to gnaw on the boxes inside the bag he had put it. Quickly he threw his shirt onto the bag, smothered the flames, and threw the shirt with the boxes away from the car. The flames suddenly erupted as they found the fuel line. John grabbed the shirt and ran to Agnes, grabbing her by the arm. They ran towards the other side of the road and were just in time to dive into the grass as they heard a ear-shattering explosion as the fuel tank erupted. The fire was blown in a circle of ten to fifteen meters around the car. John knew they had to move fast now before the grasses will catch fire and engulf them. He grabbed her hand and as fast as they could, the started to run in an opposite direction of the searching soldiers, more to the north-western direction.

They ran for about fifteen minutes until their breath was burning in their throats, and then they stopped and stood crouched for about ten minutes. Sweat ran from their faces. When, at last, they stood up, Agnes pulled John on the side of his pants. “ I….I can’t go on…..I’m out of breath…please…let’s rest” she gasped John looked back. In a distance he could hear the truck departing. “ I ….I had time to salvage the water bottles and our sleeping bags…. but that’s all…I’m sorry” she gasped and threw the goods on the ground. John tapped her on the shoulder. “ You…. you…you’re a marvel…. thanks my dear…O.K…c’mon…. let’s roll out the sleeping bags and stay in the hollow in front of us for the night. At least it is obscured from the road and reasonably safe” he gasped back. He checked his pockets, and found the cigarette lighter he used to light the fire.” Thanks God for that” he said. They unstrapped the bags from the top of the sacks, and hung the three water cans at the bottom. John took the sack from his back, and decided to turn with an arc towards the southwest in Nairobi’s direction the next day. He guessed that they should be at least a hundred or so kilometres from Mount Kenya, where there should be settlements.” C’mon my dear…let’s put our stuff down and take a walk. God decided that it is time to do some sight seeing and study His creation…we must assure ourselves where we are…there’s a long way ahead” and he started to walk through the thick foyer. He stopped as he realized Agnes was not following.

As he turned around, he saw her busy changing pants and cleaning herself as a stream of blood was still making it’s way down her leg. He turned around and took his shirt, wiping the blood off her legs..” No John…you cannot use your shirt “ she replied. He just ignored her, and kept on cleaning. “ Are you O.K…. nothing ruptured?” he asked concerned. She just shook her head. “ It is sore inside…but I don’t think the damage is too serious” she answered as she changed her pants. John looked up to her face.” I think we must get to a hospital…just to make sure all is O.K…. and to get a injection just in case those filthy bastards transferred a venereal decease to you….I don’t say it happened…but better safe than sorry” She smiled at him, and hugged him.” Mon Signor….I love you…you are too concerned…I’ll be all right” and she kissed him. He pressed her against his breast. “ Ex Mon Signor…. that is…just call me John” he said as he turned to proceed the journey. She smiled and slapped him on the buttock as she followed him, cleaving their way through the tall grasses.

The sun was about two thumbs length from the horizon as the at last emerged from the handicapping grasses into an open veldt. They could see for miles ahead. John halted, and studied the area. “As you can see, Mount Kenya in dead ahead to the right, that means Nairobi is slightly to the left. I would suggest we turn back to the road. If we keep on to the road,, we minimize the chance of getting lost, as well as keeping on track towards Nairobi. Maybe we are lucky, and get picked up by a traveler” he pointed out. Agnes agreed.” If not by the army” John shook his head. “ We’ll have to take our chances…that’s all we can do. I say we move as fast as possible…we got at least seven hours sunlight left” Agnes looked worried.” What if those bastards return?” John took her hand.” I don’t think they will…but if they do…we’ll be at the ready…maybe we can ask them for a lift” She stared at him. “ O yea…. and how do you think you will manage that…. walk up to them and request them for one?” He smiled.” Yep…at gunpoint…. demanding them” he said as he started retracting their steps towards the hollow. To have a well earned meal and rest.

The sun was already embarking high on his cosmic mission when at last John awoke. Agnes was still fast asleep. John just sat there. His body felt stiff of the hard ground. These past few days, especially these past few hours were sheer hell. He can’t think of a time that he had gone through so much physical strain as the day before. He refuses to believe that she was raped, mugged-and their vehicle burnt to cinders. The soldiers were gone now .All was quiet-as-if nothing happened the previous day. The only grim reminder of their flight for safety was the burnt-out Vauxhall-now just a mere remnant of what it use to be. Slowly reality dawned onto him. He quickly reached in his trouser pocket- “ Thank-God” he mumbled as he felt his purse still intact. “ At least those heathens did not get hold of it” he thought as he painfully stood erect. He stretched his limbs and turned to the sleeping figure of his companion.

He then decided to leave her a little bit longer, seeing that she was mentally more exhausted than he was. Carefully he ascends the little hill around them that formed the ditch they were sleeping in. He made his way to where the car was lit. After a couple of minutes he broke through the grass couver. Before him he saw the remnants of their belongings. Everything was scattered in a disorderly manner, knapsacks overturned and the contents that was not useful to the marauders left on the ground. Clothing was draped on the tall grass, papers strewn all over the area, pots and pans half buried in the sand. John stared at the mess in front of him. Slowly he stumbled to what was left of their possessions. He decided to salvage what they will need most, like knapsacks, matches, here and there a utensil, a pot and pan or two, bit of clothing and so on.

It was about a quarter of an hour later when he had done most of the scraping and salvaging, when he returned and woke Agnes. She slowly sat up and gawked at him. “ My Lord…what a mess…” was the only words she uttered when she saw the rubble he gathered next to her. He sat there-just staring at the goods. “ Yes my dear…. courtesy of the new Kenya regime…” was all he replied. Agnes wipes the hair out of her smeared face. “ Nothing else left?” John just shook his head. “ Nope…” Agnes stood up. “ John…. what are we going to do? Where the hell are we?” John smiled cynically. “ My dear Agnes…I would not say that we are in hell…. but it sure as the devil feels as if we came from there” he replied. He stood up and starts to pack their meager belongings in the sacks.” “ At least we can pay for a lift and a decent room while we decide what to do next” he said and stares at the sun. “ Come on darling…I presume we still have a long way to walk before we reach the nearest reasonable settlement. We’ll have to be more careful from now on. Most of these locals will be intimidated by those boogymen..and will blow the whistle as soon as they see us I believe.” Agnes studied the road. “ Any suggestions where we will be heading now?” she asked. John shook his head. “ No…I’m afraid not…but I would think the best would be to walk in a South- Westerly direction. I think Nairobi will be that way… and the border…still quite a long way to go as the crow flies” and he strapped the knapsack on his back-holding the other one to her. She took it and while John led the way she also strapped her’s.

For three and a half hours they kept on walking, at last joining the road as it snaked between the bushes. For another eight hours they stayed on the road, resting now and then to have a drink of water and relaxing their sore feet and legs. Again then they would start and keep on walking until the sun disappeared behind the mountains. They decided to overnight in a hollow of about eight meters in diameter, some fifty or so yards from the road and obscured from the path. There was a little ridge they had to climb to come on the other side. When they at last were on top of the ridge, an eye staggering sight greeted them. In front of them, about two to two and a half kilometers direct in front of them, were a huge herd of blue wildebeest, antelope, giraffes and warthogs. Here and there they could see baboons and different species of birds. To the left was a huge waterhole where the main attractions were. A pack of lions were eating on a fresh kill, and to the rear they saw a couple of hyenas…dustbins of nature, trying together with two or three jackals to scavenge left overs. John sat down and stared at the sight.

“ This should be Meru National Park. Hard to think there was a war on” she said emotionally. John kept quiet for a moment.” Yes…. and the irony is that they are also victims of a corrupt system…. while in the mean time the country was theirs before human ever set foot here…. now they were to perish in favor for a rapid uncontrollable human expansion” Agnes thought for a moment. “ John…do you think the Garden of Eden looked much the same…so quiet and harmonious?” John turned to her.” I think the garden was even more beautiful…. until man set foot into it…but someday…. yes someday…God will restore this sick world unto it’s rightful glory…someday there will be war no more…no tears…. no deaths…. no corrupt anargists…. and then only will we realize the full impact of his original creation.” They sat there, two people alone, watching the peaceful scene for a long time, until John decided to set up camp and get some food going. He prepared their last tinned food as not to disturb the animals. He dug a hole in the ground and made a small fire just to heat the tins. After they ate, they placed their sleeping bags in a deep hollow against a straight wall of earth that broke the wind and are well hidden. Together they huddled up and snuggled in for the night. As John was about to sink into a tired slumber, Agnes kissed him on the cheek.” Do you think the lions might visit us tonight?” John shook his head. “ No…I don’t think so. They made their kill and will be stuffed until the day after tomorrow” She watched him lazily shifting into a comfortable position. “ You said that the last time…and we nearly lost our lives”

John opened his eyes.” My dear…those were barbarians with no sense of pattern…. unpredictable sick humans… this you are talking about are animals, with a sense of predictability…a steadfast routine…much more advanced than the mindless idiots you referred to…so, please my love…relax…and go to sleep…tomorrow will be another hard day” and he snuggled into the sleeping bag and started to snore nearly immediately. Agnes stared at the clear night sky...the stars that twinkled far up above. and the moon that were full, creating a ghostly atmosphere against the bleak landscape as it casts it’s soft light upon it. She listened to the sounds of the wildebeest as they now and again snorted…and the high-pitched call of a jackal to its mate. Small carnivores rustled around her in the grasses, and slowly the sleep embraced her with its soft blanket into a world where there was no pain.

CHAPTER 23

The sun was climbing into the morning sky as Wasiri and Kasimati returned to the village. They stood on the top of the mountainous ridge for a while, staring down onto the village. Smoke hung over the valley from the fires that were still smoldering. All over the village they can see drunken men passed out and sleeping next to huts, fires and wherever they decided to sleep off their drunken stupor. Wasiri stared at the valley for a long time...thinking…trying to get his tormented mind in order. Kasimati saw his chief was much troubled, and knew the reason as well…but he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do. He knew, and Wasiri knew, that for traditions and generations now they had consulted the forefathers and the spirits. To them there was no way out of this one. To anger such a powerful spirit as Sempehlinge would mean ultimate disaster…not only for them, but also for the Kukuwana tribe as a whole! He knew Wasiri is trying to work a way around the problem, but frankly he himself cannot think of any solution. He knows that it will be mind tormenting for Wasiri to get out there and pick a innocent girl to be slaughtered like an animal…to be offered to the god…. but like so many times before, they had to obey the request without question…whatever the consequences…that’s the way it must be done…and will be done.

Kasimati just stood there, eyeing the village…waiting for a movement from his leader…trying to figure out what to do next…what to say that would at least ease the pain in the eyes of the old leader, but thought as he would, time and again he decided to rather kept quiet. This was one decision that was to come from the chief himself…and one Kasimati would not like to make. Wasiri realized that he had to do something, for Sempehlinge was waiting…and watching! Slowly, with a deep sigh he started to decent down the narrow footpath towards the village where the fate of a hapless girl awaits her. Kasimati strolled behind his leader. The task would fall upon him to choose the girl and explain the ritual to the broken parents. As the village witch doctor, he was a much-respected man, but in times like this, the burden of leadership and decision weighs heavily upon those appointed, and the tasks performed not always welcomed. He wondered how and what he will tell the parents…and the girl.

Wasiri and Kasimati descended to the village, where they went straight to the witchdoctor’s hut. Kasimati knew the rules, knew the ritual…but not the outcome. As they entered the hut, he instructed Wasiri to sit down. The old man was tired of long hours without sleep, his eyes were red. Kasimati took the bones and the different types of muti. He threw some powder on the small deerskin in the middle of the hut. Smoke evaporates from the ground. Kasimati began to mumble and swayed his head to and fro. He must make contact with the ancestors to appoint the maiden. For a few minutes he kept vigil meditation, and then started to shake the bones in his hand. After what seems an eternity, he casted the bones onto the buckskin, chanting louder all the time. The bones rolled like dices and came to a halt, spreaded across the buckskin. Kasimati then went out and brought a chicken into the hut, and after a few mumblings, he dissected the bird’s head, spouting the fresh blood upon the bones. Again he discarded some powder onto the bones, and smoke transcended over the buckskin. When at last the smoke cleared, Kasimati studied the bones, and with a pointed bony finger started to show Wasiri exactly what the ancestors had decided.

“ I can see the answer to your problem, o great Wasiri of the Kukuwana.The bones have directed the girl that is to be offered to the great Sempihlenge…it shows me a hut with five women…it shows me it must be the daughter of the man that cannot walk…it shows me a girl that is the second youngest of seven children…. this girl belongs to the family of Turwana…on the far side of the village. We must go to this man and inform him of the great honor that be felled him and his family. The bones show me that once his daughter is being offered to Semphelinge, he will receive another child to take her place…and the gods will bless him by giving him back his feet…but…the offering must take place tonight as the great ball of fire go behind the mountains, so that the fireball can take her soul with him to the liar of Lemisemphe. Only the parents must join us to the stone of offering, carrying the presents requested by Semphelinge. When we reached the stone, they must leave the girl to go on to the stone and lie down so we can arrange the flowers. They must then leave the place immediately…for bad omens will befall them if they look upon the offering…only you and me must stay behind…This is the way it must be done…the ancestors has spoken”

Wasiri sat quiet for a moment, tears in his old eyes. The girl that has been chosen was well known to him. .so her family. Her father was an old man that was half blind and couldn’t walk. The Turwana family had a long line of good people, and never had any bad history. Many times in the past he would go to their hut and visit them. They were mainly cattle people, and many a time gave oxen for feasts. Wasiri wondered how would he relay this message to them…he felt so guilty. Slowly he stood up.” Wasiri’s ears have heard the words being spoken by the ancestors. Wasiri will obey the words…. but Kasimati, the great son of the gods will take the message to this family, for only he can tell them what the ancestors have said…. Wasiri might tell a lie…or maybe forget all that was said…this is the words of Wasiri…so will it be done then” the old man replied, and stood up. For a moment he paused.” Wasiri do not want to stain his hands with the blood of the innocent…as chief I am forced to do this in order to free the spirits…and win the battle that will save us all…but I will have no part in the ceremony…go…do your hideous deed!!”” he said angry and left the hut to return to his own and get some sleep.

Wasiri slept until the big fireball was above their heads when Kasimati woke him…it was time to go. Wasiri took his royal staff and donned his lion skin. He walked to the edge of the village and waited on Kasimati. Kasimati in the meantime had informed the Turwana family of the decision of the ancestors. The whole family and friends was gathered in front of the hut as he arrived to take the child. She was dressed in bright red family colors, wearing beads of virginity around her neck and ankles, and a deerskin full of beads, mirrors and other gifts were stashed at her feet. Her mother was in total shock. The father just stared in front of him while the rest of the family cried and mourned. Kasimati just stood at the entrance of the kraal, and when the mother and father looked at him questiongly, he just nodded that it was time to say farewell. Two young men approached Kasimati, and offered to accompany them for the fact that the old man couldn’t walk, and the mother needed support. Kasimati acknowledged, and the men picked up the bunch of flowers and presents. One of them hugged the father, and nodded the girl that it was time to go. She walked towards the waiting Kasimati as if in a dream, whilst her mother followed…crying and pleading for her daughter’s life to be spared.

Together the group set for the place where Wasiri was waiting. When they have reached the spot where Wasiri was standing, the mother tried to look into Wasiri’s eyes, but he evaded her pleading stare. Wasiri signed, and joined Kasimati at the front, refusing to look back. The group then set uphill through the bushes to the place of offering. Wasiri felt revolution in his stomach…he never had to approve an offering of a human…. lots of times animals…but never a member of his clan. In silence the group walked until they reached the spot where the mysterious big flat stone was waiting. They walked for most of the afternoon until at last Kasimati stopped, indicating they have reached the end of their journey. Here Kasimati instructed the family to say their last farewells and return to the village. The stone and offering were sacred, and only he and Wasiri were allowed to be at the sacrifice. The mother and two men cried and hugged the girl. The mother couldn’t take it anymore, and subsequently fainted, and the boys tried to revive her. The girl was crying as well, shaking with fear. Kasimati judged that this was the best time to depart while the mother was unconscious, and took the maiden by her hand.” Come on ……it is time…the gods are waiting my child” he said and led her through the thick bushes to where her fate awaits her. Wasiri followed like a ghost…his whole being rebelling against this kind of ritual. He followed Kasimati and the girl between the huge boulders, through thick bushes and along the river for at least two kilometers until they reached the sacred spot where only the highest ranking and the sacred are allowed.

Kasimati walked up to Wasiri and proposed that he rather must stay there, for from here on the ritual is stricktly the bussiness of the witchdoctor. Wasiri was glad he had to take no part in this hedious murder, and silently stood there…just watching. Kasimati took the girl by her hand and accompany her to the stone. He told the girl to get undressed. The maiden started to undress and Kasimati blessed her throughout with the magic oxtail and smeared oil on her body, whilst chanting to the gods. Next he took the girl and instructed her to lie down on the stone, which she did. Kasimati took out a callabash and mixed a potion, which he then offered to the girl. She drank it and while the potion, that was to seduce the girl as not to feel anything, took effect, Kasimati bounded her hands and feet. Wasiri just stood there, watching the macabre ritual in awe. He saw Kasimati placing the flowers on the scared girl, mumbling all the time to the gods. Kasimati then took a chicken, killed it and poured the blood on the hapless girl. Her eyes were wild and scared as she watched the ritual of her life.

After a while the potion started to take effect, and the girl began to hallucinate, her head rolling sideways. Kasimati waited a few more minutes and then took out the knive he used for offerings, stroking it with oil. He closed his eyes and lifted the knife with both hands, chanting harder and harder. The next moment his hands came down to slam the knive into the girl’s chest…then the world exploded before his eyes…the knife never reached it’s designated target. Kasimati sank to the ground…his skull shattered by a heavy blow as Wasiri’s staff penetrated the back of his cranium.

Wasiri stood motionless for a moment, gasping for air. He looked upon the lifeless body of Kasimati as it was sprawled on the ground next to the altar of doom. Cautiously he stepped over the body and took the knive from the lifeless hands of Kasimati, cutting through the ropes around the girl’s hands and ankles. He shook the girl, but she was still in a stupor. He again shook her, and she made mumbling sounds. Wasiri looked at Kasimati’s body.” Why did you forced me to do this…why Kasimati…why? We were good friends for many seasons now, we walked a long way…and you served us well, but I will not stand by and see an innocent girl killed to satisfy the lust of the gods….if Semphelinge wants an offering…then he can take you….not an innocent girl…..you can now tell him that….tell him Wasiri will not do this thing…tell him Wasiri is old…he doesn’t care if Semphelinge come to take his life…I’m old…this girl is still young…tell him Wasiri has spoken!!” The old man turned to the girl as she showed signs of recovering. He shook her again, and she opened her eyes. Wasiri stroked her head.” Come my child…put your dress on…we are leaving this bad place” The girl stared in bewilderment at Wasiri.” What happened great father…am I in Thlokotsadi…. where is Kasimati?” Wasiri smiled and shook his head.” No my child…. very nearly…but you are safe now…. Kasimati went to Thlokotsadi in your place…he gave himself willingly as an offer…. come…your parents will be glad to see you” he said and helped the girl off the stone.

The girl gingerly balanced herself and straightened herself out. She looked at Wasiri expectedly. Wasiri waved his hand at her.” Go on…don’t wait…go…quickly…don’t wait for me!” and he stood there, resting with both hands on his staff. The girl lingered for a moment, and then she started to run like a wild animal through the bushes, screaming with shock as the reality struck her. Wasiri watched as the girl dissapeared through the bushes, and then his knees buckled. He sank to the ground and started to cry. His old frame shook spasmodically as the raw cries burst through it. For long minutes he just cried and cried. The sun was down already when he realised he was not alone. As he looked up, he saw the silent figure of Kgadi standing there…watching him in deep interest, not moving a muscle. Wasiri just sat there… not moving, for he was too tired.

With an exausted voice he turned to Kgadi. “ Why is the great Kgadi here? Why is the great one looking at Wasiri? Is the great one also embarrass at what Wasiri did? If so…then take the life of Wasiri…. Wasiri doesn’t care anymore…I killed a man…I killed my own…here…take the cursed souls of the dead and return it to Semphelinge…tell him Wasiri does not want to be part of his bad plan anymore…just let Wasiri in peace to start the journey to Thlokotsadi…Wasiri is tired…too tired to worry anymore” and he threw the little object with the blue mist detestingly at Kgadi’s feet. Kgadi just watched the object falling at his feet; rolling to a standstill...just lying there…Still he did not move…just kept watching Wasiri. Wasiri looked at Kgadi expectedly. “ Why does the great one not move? Why does the great one not pick up the souls? Is the great one also too scared to stand up to Semphelinge? Why does the great one not speak?” Again he received no answer. Wasiri turned his back on Kgadi, and stared across the river. His heart was broken, his body and soul tired. The past few days took their toll. He just wanted to die…embrace the everlastig rest…having peace for once in his soul.

Wasiri stiffened with shock as the voice behind him jerked him out of his deep thoughts. “ Kgadi listened to the words of Wasiri of the Kukuwana.This thing Wasiri has done, was the right thing…and also the wrong thing!” the voice slowly answered. Wasiri spun around.” Does the great one now also speak with two tongues? Is there in the world of the ancestors also feasts where spirits get too much to drink…for why does the great one speak like a drunken warrior…how can one be right and wrong…Wasiri does not understand the tongue of Kgadi” he retorted angrily. Kgadi silently watched him as he rants and raves. Kgadi understands the soul of Wasiri…and felt sorry for him. He pointed his finger at Wasiri.” Wasiri will not understand the tongue of Kgadi…for Wasiri is the one that acts like a drunken warrior!!” he said with sympathy.

Wasiri lifted his hands in total disgust. “ Now Wasiri is the drunken one…first, Semphelinge tells Wasiri he must keep quiet…he wants a spirit wife..Wasiri must send one…Now Kgadi tells Wasiri he acts like a drunken warrior…for not sending him one…he acted right and wrong with the request of Semphelinge…sending him a wife…then not sending him a wife…instead sending him Kasimati where he was not to send Kasimati…why is it that the spirits are always right…they have much to say and.many ways to tell Wasiri how to work with the other wrong spirits the right way…and the right spirits the wrong way, but they themselves never talk to each other…can the spirits not speak to each other…or do they never see each other…why always use Wasiri to do faviours for the spirit world…be their messenger…talk to this…talk to that…do this…do that…why not getting their own spirit messenger…or take Kasimati over there…he does not seem to be very busy now…see…very easy…offer him the spirits of the cattle we killed as payment” he answered in dismay. Kgadi walked closer.” Now Wasiri speaks like a child…he says things that might get him killed…listen to him” and he pointed his staff at Wasiri. Wasiri started to laugh hysterically. ‘ So…why not kill me? Maybe then I will be doing the same as the other spirits…just walk the earth and tell people what to do the right way wrong, and the wrong way right…and accuse them of drunken tounges…Wasiri will enjoy that…Wasiri would like to have some wrong words to say to some of the right spirits…we will talk for many moons…Wasiri would like to bash some of the wrong ancestors with his spirit staff right…he will make Thlokotsadi a very busy place” he said, and giggled deep in his throat.

Kgadi shook his head …for the first time he was lost for words. “Wasiri must listen to Kgadi. Semphelinge has no need for a woman…spirits do not marry…or have children…Semphelinge tricked Wasiri…he only wanted a soul… Kgadi told Wasiri that one was a dark horse! Now Wasiri did the right thing for not killing the girl…but the wrong thing by giving the soul of Kasimati to Semphelinge…he won..He has got his soul he wanted. Does the eyes of Wasiri not see…Semphelinge wanted you to save the girl…by killing Kasimati…he does not worry what soul he gets…as long as he gets a soul, and he knew you would rather kill Kasimati instead of Kasimati killing the girl…he knows your thoughts…Kgadi told you he was a bad one…you had to be carefull.” Wasiri gaped at Kgadi. “ Now Wasiri does not understand. Semphelinge does not need a soul…because he wants another soul...he then tricked Wasiri.to get Wasiri to save a soul…so that he could get another soul…why is the great one speaking in tounges again?”

Kgadi threw his hands in the air. “ Why do I reason with a monkey…you speak in strange ways Wasiri….you do not listen to the words of Kgadi…your ears is full of the dung of a cow…I have no time for speaking to monkeys with the dung of a cow in their ears….Kgadi better go now…maybe we talk another time when Wasiri washed his ears” he complained and disappeared in thin air. Wasiri shook his head. “ Now Wasiri is asking question like a monkey …but it was the words Kgadi spoke like a babboon that made Wasiri ask question like a monkey…. maybe Kgadi also have the dung of a cow in his ears” he groaned as he stood up to make his way to the village.

Wasiri entered the village just as the big red fireball sank into its liar. He was very tired. The proceedings on the riverbank at the stone, the killing of Kasimati, and the visit from Kgadi, all in one day was too much for the old man. He decided that he will send his warriors to the leopard mountain straight away to collect the fallen warriors, and send a strong force of his bravest to Kgangalenge, the place where the eagle nests, to attack the white warriors and kill all of them as Kgadi had said. He wants to do this thing on his own to show Semphelinge that he, Wasiri, can collect the souls, and win the battle without sacrificing a girl. If the god can speak to him with a forked tounge, then he can work for the god with forked hands. Wasiri was angry, very angry at the way Semphelinge tricked him into killing his own brother. He will now trick Semphelinge again. Wasiri was decending from the hill when the people saw him and came running to him with great praises for saving the girl.

All over the village people yelled that the great Wadsiri arrived, and they must all go and meet him, singing songs and praising him. They fell in front of his feet, singing praises and thanking him. The girl’s elated mother kissed his feet with tears of joy, and sweared everlasting alliance with him. Wasiri let them enjoy their grattitude for a moment, and then he raised his hands to silence the people. He waited a few moments, and sat down on a stone. His subordinates gathered around him. He watched them in silence for a moment, and then he opened his mouth to speak the words of a respected chief. “ My people…people of the proud Kukuwana, I, Wasiri Mtetwa, chief of the Kukuwana, want to thank you for the praises…. it makes the soul smile to see the people of the Kukuwana do so. I must not speak with a forked tonge… It was not me who saved the girl from the Turwana family…it was the brave Kasimati. He told me that he want to go to Thlokotsadi to speak to the gods, and to help us by talking to the ancestors about the war we have to fight. He said he would look apon us from Thlokotsadi, and see to it that as a man from this village, the ancestors will smile upon us. Thank Kasimati…sing your praises to him…he was a great man. The gods has spoken to me at the place of offering. The words they have said, was hard and straight. The words the gods has spoken to Wasiri was as such: That Wasiri must send his warriors to the mountain of the leopard at dark, to collect the fallen Jima and the other braves, and bring them back to their village. I have here, in my hand, the souls of those braves…we can send them on the water of M’bali to the gates of Thlokotsadi where Lehmisemphe will unite them with their souls. I also must send our strongest and bravest warriors to Kgangalenge, the place where the eagle nests, to perform the ritual of Ramirake, god of the warriors, and to to await the white warriors, and kill them all. The warriors must mix the water of M’linga, together with the clay of Sankato, goddess of the earth, to make them invincible to the sticks of thunder when they attack. The children of the whites must then be offered to Udukwa, ruler of Thlokotsadi at Kgangalenge. This is what the gods have spoken. I want Dubakwe, son of Memphele, to take many warriors to the mountain of the leopard, to collect the bodies of the fallen warriors. I want Tendere, brother of Lunga, to take the rest of the warriors to go to Kgangalenge when the red fireball greets us again. This must be done…Wasiri has spoken”

The old man stood up and took a deep breath. Slowly he began to decent to his royal hut to sleep the sleep of a tired old man. About a hundred yards away, hidden from the sights of the villagers, Kgadi stood, watching Wasiri and listening to his speech. The mountain spirit smiled and turned away, chuckling.” At least the mind of Wasiri is not full of cow dung…that Kgadi can see…now he would like to see what Semphelinge is up to…Wasiri will need some help with that one” he whispered and disappeared between the bushes.

CHAPTER 24

David staggered into his home late the next morning. He felt as if the London Express ran over him…then reversed. His manhood was burning like hell. Caroline and Jenny nearly raped him. He couldn’t believe a woman could be so sex starved….they tormented him for about seven hours, and when he couldn’t go on any more, they simply sucked him dry! He waited for them to go and pee, then he grabbed his trousers and skipped the window and fence and ran to where his horse were, but the animal was gone. He had to run about a half a mile before he could get dressed out of fear of them trailing him. He then had to walk the five odd miles to his house.

He was dog-tired as he entered the mansion. His genitals were aching like hell of the night’s escapades. He barely could think straight- let alone walk up straight. Fatigue made his movements sluggish and his senses dull. Vicci and her les compatriots grilled the blue monkey shits out of him and kept it up until he ran away from sheer exhaustion. The worst of all was Jenny..a sturdy girl with a sex appetite bar none. She spent most of the night on top of him…exploding in series of orgasms one after the other. She had a shaven tadpole and he was eating her like a ripe juicy apple for hours on end until his jaws were numb. Caroline he fucked three times- trying to break her back…but she didn’t even squeaked when he busted her virgin.

Jennny just rammed her pussy down with the help of Vicci and started to ride him like a wild stallion. Then they all pissed on him as he lapped their yellow juices one by one. As he ascends the first two stairs to get a bath and a long sleep, his mother appeared around the guest room corner. She saw him and smiled. “ Oh David my boy…am I glad to see you” David froze momentarily. “ Oh, hi mom…. it’s O.K…I was just about to go to the stables to help Wilkins” he quickly stammered a Mickey. His mother smiled proudly at her son.” We nearly thought you disappeared for the night…how silly of me. Come…. have I got a surprise for you…you are going to love it” she said and took him by the hand. David stumbled red eyed behind her to where she led with her quick short paces. The only surprise he would love was a good hot bath, and a soft bed. His mother walked towards the rear of the house. David knew better than to argue…he wouldn’t like to blow his cover, so he tagged painfully along. As they emerged from the house into the back garden, they walked slap bang into his niece. David’s heart sagged into his number eight shoes. She was a real plump girl of eighteen with a very potent sex drive, and for years now she chased David, believing he had a crush on her, and trying to seduce her. She had fiery red hair, made into two sideways ponytails, and she had so many pimples, a blind could read brail on her face!

When intellect was distributed…she was on holiday, and for looks…she could sink a battle fleet with her face. To David, she gave a new meaning to the word ugly. He only endured her for he did not want to hurt mother. Mother on the other hand, had the idea Theresa, his niece, and him were the best of friends. His mother turned to him with a very broad smile.” See, I told you…look who came to visit you!!” his mother said and pushed her chest out, as she appears to be very proud of the occasion, very pleased indeed. She leaned over to David.” And guess what….I asked her mother if she can stay for the summer break…isn’t it wonderful? Now the two of you can spent many days together…go on…you two are still young….I’ll be back tonight…I’m leaving for our annual meeting at the Bridge Club” his mother whispered into his ear, and tapped him on the shoulder.

David nearly swallowed his tongue. He couldn’t believe what his mother just had said. He was doomed. He pinched himself just to make sure he wasn’t having hallucinations due to the huge amount of beer he had the previous night, but no, he was unluckily wide awake. If he saw one more vagina again..he knew he will puke..and now he really was staring at the biggest, ugliest sex organ in human history…and she will be pestering him for the whole summer holiday. He felt dizzy by the thought. Here he stood- looking into the eyes of the prime evil of sex hallucinations! “ Oh…mother…you shouldn’t have…you are the greatest mother on this earth….hi Theresa…it is so good to see you again….this really is a surprise!” he stammered as good as he could. “Would you excuse me for a moment….I have to go and wash quickly” he said and smiled as he turned around abruptly. “ Oh my lord…what a mess…and it’s getting worse by the minute…David old boy…do you still think the morning after the night before was worth the night before after the morning after?” he mumbled to himself as he disappeared through the verandah door.” What did you say?” a voice came from behind, and David nearly jumped through the roof out of sheer shock.

He spun around, and there, to his dismay, was his so much adored little niece. “ Oh…Theresa…I didn’t realize you were there…no…I just spoke to myself” he grinned. “ O…it’s all right. Your mother said I could join you upstairs…would you care to show me your room?” she asked with a girlish glitter in her brown eyes. David nearly busts a vessel.” Motherrrrrrr…. how the hell could you?” he hissed softly between his teeth. He grinned again.” Oh…sure…I suppose I could- but I must warn you- I have to leave immediately for something important that came up” he answered a hundred percent against his own free will, and ran as fast as he could up the stairs, hoping to shake her off.

As he turned into his doorway…she was right behind him, nearly overtaking him into his own domain. David cursed softly. “How can a huge piece of sheer blubber move that fast? ”, he thought. He entered his room with Theresa tight on his heels. He turned around.” O.K…. this is my room…sorry…I’m in a bit of a hurry…if you don’t mind” he hastily told her. Theresa laughed. …And slammed the door shut! “ O David….I wanted to be alone with you for so long…and as a woman, I can feel the positive vibrations radiating from you that you also longed to embrace me.…let’s do it quickly…before you go to the stables” she whispered and started to strip off her garments. David nearly had an attack of hysteria. “ Vibrations?…Good heavens- this little imp really was over the cliff! Woman impersonator maybe…woman. DEFINITELY NOT…vibrations? Longed to embrace her? Good Lord…what the hell is she blabbering about? This kid must have seen too many Shakespeare plays…she must be dreaming of horse shit on fig trees” he thought.

David nearly choked as she rubbed her huge watermelons that acted as breasts and started to approach him. “Theresa…no…please..No..Don’t do that…just now mother will hear us…no, please…I beg you…Theresa…” he moaned, but the girl was adamant. “ You are so cute when you play hard to get…but not today…I’ve got you…” she gloated and swung the key to David’s room in her finger. David felt like passing out. She stood naked in front of him…her belly fat shaking as she giggled. She was so fat, David couldn’t even see her anatomy due to the stomach that rolled over it, and her huge breasts swayed, nearly touching her belly button. David felt as if he wants to vomit. “ What the dickens does she think I am? What the hell am I going to do to get rid of this little monster…opening her legs and pucking on her ugly fluff?” he thought while retreating hastily to get out of the way of the approaching young mastodon.

She suddenly jumped onto him, sending him sprawling on the bed, and started to rip off his clothes. David tried in vain to protect himself, but she was too strong and too horny. Before he could react, he was lying on the bed naked as a baby rat, with her bouncing all over him. He struggled for his life, but to disengage a young hippopotamus wasn’t that easy. She grabbed him by the tool and shook it viciously. “ I want you to do me…c’mon you handsome you…c’mon…give me a stiff!!” she cried and shook the hell out of his poor already bruised manhood. She stopped a moment, and looked around.’ I know…. Vaseline….I hurt you…didn’t I ?…I’m sorry…wait…I’ll get some then it will be more slippery” she giggled, and jumped off to get the ointment. David saw his chance and like a flash he got to his feet and dived for the wardrobe. In the movement he grabbed the key out of the wardrobe door, and jumped into the closet.

From the inside he rapidly locked the door. Theresa saw this and knocked on the door from the outside. “ David…. David…are you there…can you hear me…answer me” she hollered. David couldn’t believe his ears…he knew she was not all that bright….but to ask him if he was inside the closet…and if he could hear her, was totally frightening stupid. He kept quiet. Again she banged on the door. “ Davy…now be a good man and come out!” she demanded.” No!!” he replied. “ David…I love you…please don’t be childish…come out at once! We can talk it over ..c’mon” she ordered him. “ No way!!” he again replied. “ Talking it over…how quaint…more like screwing it over..” he muttered to himself. She started to thump the doors furiously.” You better come out…or I will stay here until you do!” she screamed. “ No!!” he again replied. Suddenly he felt the closet bouncing to and forth, sending him bumping against the sides as she grabbed the piece of furniture and shook it with all her fury. “ Damn you David…I will get you…you cannot keep hiding…damn you!!!” she yelled with fury. “ No way!!” he replied again. He felt her dropping the closet, and there was silence. He waited and waited, but nothing happened. He wondered where the hell she has gone, but was too bloody scared to investigate…so he sat it out.

David fell asleep after some hours and was woken by a soft knock. He heard his mother’s voice. “ David…David…are you in there?” she asked worried. He opened his eyes, and felt the cramps in his legs…they were lifeless. “ Yes mother…. I’m in here…I’m O.K” he answered in a faint voice. “ What are you doing in there for goodness sake?” his mother asked. He thought fast. “ I walked in my sleep last night…and must have ended up in here” he fibbed. “ Walking in your sleep…locking yourself into a cupboard…. you never did that before…. quite strange I should say…are you sure you are all right?” He heard her trying to unlock the door, and turned ice cold.” No…no…it’s O.K…really mother…. you can leave…I’ll get out myself…really!!” he covered before his mother really got a shock of her life. There was a moment’s silence as she stopped fiddling with the door handle. “ All right then…but hurry up…. your father wants you to attend the conference today…and David…by the way…you really must get out of the house more often- you are starting to act strangely lately…I believe it’s stress…Doctor Aldridge always told your dad to get more fresh air…maybe you should go fishing or something” she ended and he could hear her leaving and closing the door. “ Stress…mother- you have no idea…no idea” he whispered as he relaxed again. David took the key, and after a few tries, the door flung open. He first made sure the humping niece were gone before he attempted to get out, but his legs stayed in a crouching position, and he had to fall out of the cupboard, and crawl his way to the bed where he battled to straighten his legs until he again could feel the blood trickling through his veins. It took him almost a half an hour before he was able to stand up and walk normal.

It was just past eleven when David returned home from the conference at Oxford, which his father had to attend. He dropped the old man with a good friend at Cambridge where they will spend the afternoon having talks with other higher-ups around a couple of whiskeys. David set speed to get home. His mother took dear pestering niece to do some shopping in Sheffield, thus enabling him to have some free time to get his plans organized. He ran up to the old man’s study and flopped into the easy chair at the huge Embuia desk. He grabbed the phone and phoned Aaron Gatsby, a friend in Brighton with shipping connections. He enquired about ships that was due for Africa, and subsequently Aaron told him no such luck in Brighton, but he knew by word of mouth about an old steamer, the Dominique, that was about to embark from Portsmouth in three days time. The old steamer was taking an excavating railroad team or something to Dar es Salaam if he was interested. David immediately agreed. Aaron said that he knew the captain fairly well, and will talk to him to take David on board.

David could sense Aaron was mighty puzzled by the request from him, but decided to keep it under his hat out of fear that the news just might spread to his folks. David was jubilant at the news. He slammed the receiver down and jumped in the air with joy and with a big shout of “Splendid work old boy!!!” he ran down the isle and skated on a small carped over the polished floor on his way to get his papers ready. He had nine thousand pounds sterling in the Bank of England, plus about three thousand in his private hiding place. He will have to ask the old man for another thousand as spending money on one or the other commodity, which should be enough to get him going. He wanted to be on that ship as sure as hell. Things are getting mighty hot around these parts, and after his last escapade, things might turn outright nasty should certain members of the local community found out. He wants to get out as soon as possible and preferably in one piece. He would rather face the barbarians in Africa than the barbarians in Leicester if one of the pretty ladies would decide to let her tongue slip about his latest affair. Furthermore didn’t he have the stomach to baby-sit miss oversexed pudgy for the whole bloody summer. For all he care can his mother book her into a bloody brothel if need to be. He felt squeezed between two evils- outside- the daddies would be on the alert- and here at home- little Lotta would want to screw like a rabbit and hump like a Gorilla! No way-that ship has his name written all over the bow…and he will make sure he is on board when she embarks. Aaron promised to phone him back with the time of departure early the next morning.

David’s mother was sure David had something up his sleeve as he was over friendly the following two days. She did not trust the peace at all…this was not his normal behavior, but said nothing about it. David saw to it that he stayed in good spirits, and hugged his mother, talk in a friendly way to the old man, help with little tasks…and did all they would expect of a loving boy, but steered very much clear of any private contact with his niece, although she kept on following him everywhere like a bad nightmare. He made sure he was out most of the times, and when at home, stayed in the sight of the elders and in very bright light. He did not trust her inch and would like to be in screaming distance should she decide to have another uncontrollable sex attack.

The time Aaron gave David for departure was at nine on the Thursday morning, and David hastily prepared for the voyage. He withdrew his money from the bank, got his passport in order and bought new garments for the adventure that he hid in the little shack at the edge of their estate. The captain of the ship was a certain captain O Reilly- an Irish war veteran from Edinburgh, he was told. A grumpy old bastard if there ever was one- typical Irish short temper, but a good lad if you steered clear of him, especially if you’re English…he apparently had a bad war record in the local pubs with some English sailors during the war -it was said.. He agreed to take David on the ship at no cost on the one condition - if David would stand in as a stoker on the ship. His own stoker boy couldn’t attend this trip due to death in the family up in Glasgow, and he was in need of an extra hand. So, the deal was then that he would take David all the way to Africa if David in return would feed the boilers.

David agreed, as he has been a centrist, he had no care who was who, and the deal was cut. David had to be at the harbour on the coming Thursday at seven sharpish to get introduced to the rest of the crew and his boilers. So agreed…so done. The night before he had to embark, he asked the old man for the thousand quid, and had to evade a few very nervous questions. On the end he had set the old man’s worries at peace, but then -struck disaster. The old man only had four hundred to spare! He will have to wait until Saturday when the old one would go to London for some business in Adderly street before he could get the rest, he was told.. David knew he had to withdraw from that arrangement…chances are quite unavoidable that the manager will have a word or two with the old man about David's own little withdrawal- and then presumably- the old man will have a word or two with David...no...he had to leave at five the next morning, and wasn’t in the mood to face another set of intriguing questions…it might be an unpleasant situation- and by no other means-a dead giveaway. He arranged with James, the butler of the De Laney’s next door to their estate, to pick him up at the crossing at twenty past five. He paid the butler fifty pounds for the little favor. The rest of the night David spent most of the time in his room, except for attending supper. At the table he was his old self as usual, but he sensed his mother was staring at him now and again, and it made him uneasy. Was the old girl onto something? He decided to evade her eyes for the rest of the evening. After supper he went back to his room and checked and re-checked that all was in order. He was about to hit the sack when there was a soft knock at the door.

He opened the door, and saw his mother standing there. She gave him that funny look again.” Can I come in?’ she asked. David stood aside. “ Sure mom….” And he let her in. She told him to shut the door, which he did. His mother then sat on the bed and asked him to join her. As he did so, she fumbled in her sleeve, and handed him a bunch of pound notes. David gaped at her questiongly. She put her hand on his, staring at him for a long time in silence. He noticed tears emerging from her blue eyes, rolling down her cheeks. “ Oh mom….” He started, but she silenced him with her forefinger on his mouth.” Sshhh…it’s all right. I know about it. Go on…take the money…it’s not much…two thousand…but it will help. I won’t say anything to your father…I believe that when he finds out…you will be grown enough to handle it. Take care my son…. it may be dangerous. If you need help…money. or a ticket to come home….try to cable me. Send the cable to our post office. I am going to miss you” she said softly and hugged him. David took her in his arms, and felt the tears bulging in his eyes.” How…how did you know? Who told you?” he asked surprised.

His mother looked at him. “David, my son. There is little a mother don’t know…. your behavior…the papers you left on your bedside…and Mr. Thompson from the bank phoned yesterday to enquire about the withdrawal of Nine thousand pounds from your account. He wanted to make sure it was you who drew the money. He actually wanted to speak to your father…and still maybe will do so…I gave him the insurance that it was in fact you who did the withdrawal…and I will see to it that your dad knows about it…but at least…that will buy you some time to get away” she replied. David grabbed his mother and kissed her.” Thanks mom…but what if father finds out you knew about it…he would be furious” His mother pressed his hand as she stood up and walked to the door.” Leave that to me…time will heal all wounds…I will handle it” she said and disappeared into the hallway. For a moment David sat on his bed, staring at the money, then placing it into his bag under his bed. “ Good old mother…no wonder she watched him all the time during supper…she knew all along” he thought and got undressed to hit the sack for the last time in good old England for a very long time.

Dawn found David staring at the old ship he was to embark on in the harbor of Portsmouth. He stood there like a drenched seagull. It had been raining since around three o’clock, and it had been drizzling quite hard since his arrival. They had made good time to Portsmouth because James had to be on duty again at eight. David stood under the cover of a shade hanging from the wall of a pub. It was still early in the morning, and the shops and pubs does not open until nine. This left him standing in the bitter cold and rain, staring at his future traveling commodity in sheer fascination. The walk plank to the ship was drawn, so he couldn’t even go and have a look see what the inside was like. From the side the old ship looked awful. She was all rusted up and in dire need of some heavy repairs, coated with a good paint job. David wondered where the hell the old Potato captain got the old bucket of screws and bolts from. He figured there might be a crack in the Bermuda Triangle by the looks of it.

She was a rusted old relic with two huge funnels that doesn’t even know the meaning of the word “ paint”. On her forward bow there was a weather toiled statue of a flying mermaid orant made of wood, but by now her wings surely must be clipped, for David couldn’t see her pulling more than ten knots with a strong gale from behind. He wondered how the old bucket looked in the inside if she looked like this on the outside, and of which he will die first, starvation or tularemia. He guessed with a beauty like that, the sailors should at their best be quite uproarious and zolaistic. The old relic creaked every time she rolled in the waves, appearing very walty.” Yes David my man…. you really are a man with a wanion…they come in threes…first an unauthorized orgy, then a nymphomaniac classic out of a Dr. Jackal and Mr. Hyde movie…and now the bloody ship of doom” he muttered to himself as he tightened his collar to keep the wind out of his neck. He stared at the harbor where the dense mist nearly obscured the whole area, and feared that should the mist and rain continue, he would stand a chance of becoming an etiolate.

For around three quarters of an hour he strolled around the filthy dockyard, trying to assess the positive against the negative, but on the end came to the conclusion that he came this far, so he had to push on. He was still in his deep thoughts when he heard a banging sound. He looked around, and saw a scrawny fella in a thick overcoat fastening the gangplank to the pier. Elated he grabbed his kit and walked towards the ship. Mud splatted all over his neat shoes as he rushed not to be forgotten. He clambered onto the wooden plank and claws his way up the steep elevated plank until he reached the top deck of the ship. He had to jump three feet or so before he landed onto the main deck with a thud. Bewildered he stood there, not knowing where to go or what to expect next. A huge mustached sailor with grease blotted clothes came around the main cabin and stared at him in surprise.” Hello, hello, hello…just look what tha olde wind has been blowing unto our deck ah say? Ahoy there mate…an’ who might ye be…a stowaway or a blow away…. lost ye way or something?” the huge mastodon asked with a bellowing voice and funny accent. David spun around and looked up to the sailor that came so close, he could smell the old fish and the reek of yesteryears brew…the man was olid.. He gasped for air to get a breath of fresh oxygen. ” I’m sorry sir…let me introduce myself. I’m David Bascombe and I am here to see the captain. I am supposed to be the new stoker or something in that direction for this trip…. he is expecting me, being organized in London already” he answered in the best way he possibly could, still gaping at the smeary individual in front of him.

The sailor, or whatever he was, grinned behind his bushy dirty beard, and stroked his filthy moustache thoughtfully as if he wondered whether David tried to sneak him a jimmy. “By all them gods…a blinkin’ Limey…now whaddya know? “em darn seagulls musta been busy… bringing you in all de way from yonder London laddie. Always said them pests will pick up any kind of funny stuff they c’n find laying around” the giant rumbled on.”. Sorry laddie…just smearing da decks with ye a wee bit.” He grinned and slapped David between the shoulder blades, nearly sending him sprawling on the planks.” Och man…ye wanna see the boss? New stoker? Ye sure ye wanna do this, me laddie…ah mean pumping the olde lass with coals until we dock?” the bearded mastodon asked with a hard smile. David staggered to regain his posture while seeking for his lungs after the slap and could only push out a nod. “Quite so…my good man…now can you please take me to the captain…if you please?” he tried to request in a modest manner. The big meat factory still was combing his moustache with his fingers, grinning at David. “ Ah must say me lad…ye look mighty skinny fa the olde job…think mebbe ye c’n handle a shovel…ye hands looks mighty soft fa the job?” he replied as he took one of David’s hands in his claws. The enquiring oil drill was starting to annoy David, and the latter saw this clearly in David’s face. “ Okey doke mate…must warn ye though…olde Reilly is na inna mood fa funny business…kinda grumpy like a roosta with them adenoids.. is the olde geezer..…if ye understand what ah mean…do the job an’stay outta the way o’ the old bastard…un ye will be O.K. Ba the way…name is Mc Gowly…Shamus mc Gowly…. from Inverness. Scotland that is m’lad...Gid to meet ya. I’m suppose to be the chief engineer on this ‘ere floating bathtub. Anything ya need…just come to Shamus..O.K? C’mon…I’ll introduce ye to the olde warmonger” he said and started to walk towards a fleet of stairs next to the main cabin. David scrambled his belongings together and followed the tank to his waiting ordeal.

CHAPTER 25

The DC3 thundered through the Cumulus Nimbus clouds at 180 miles per hour. The two Avro Lyncoming engines that Carr specially installed himself, purred in perfect harmony. Carr knew they had to descend very soon once they pass Lake Victoria on the Tanzanian side to avoid radar detection. At four thousand feet he could see the lake passing underneath. He tapped Jim on the arm. “ We better go down to one thousand feet mate” he said. Jim shook his head. Carr looked at him.” Ah’m gonna commence with the drop now…you must keep a fair look out for them obstacles.” he told Jim. With his hand on the throttle, he commenced the decent, and with back up from the altimeter and known height AMSL of the ground, he estimated the height visually while slowly dropping the revolutions with 300 rpm. He made sure the wings are level.

The terrain were very treacherous and the hardest part would be to navigate at night around these parts, so he had to make sure not to drop lower than 700 AGL, in fear of radio masts, buildings and especially around the Kipengere Range, where the mountainous ground rose up to 4980 feet above sea level. They would cross Tanzania from Lake Victoria, past Dodoma, until they cross into Mozambique at Tunduru, to fly as straight as possible. The DC3 dropped to 1000 feet and Carr leveled her out, while setting the airspeed at 400 kph and height at 1000 AGL. He checked the airspeed indicator on a regular basis as they are flying at low Ground Speed into the wind, with a noticeable drift. The balance ball kept on moving from its centered position and Carr had to use trim a lot, checking the air speed indicator all the time. He knew he had to steer clear of clouds at all costs at this level, and anticipate rising ground to climb early to remain at the desired height above it. The area had many slopes, causing the wind to blow down it, creating up draughts.

Carr knew that tonight his best vital assistance would come from the Magnetic Compass and his clock. Carr made sure his satchel with the navigational equipment, containing the charts, scale rule and protractor, navigation computer, one pen and a pencil are at hand when needed. He did not know the area well, and expected some funny flying yet to come. He had an update on the weather by phone from AIRMET as advised in UK AIP MET 2-7/8, and plenty of cloud was expected around the Kipengere. He had to take note of the Altimeter Setting Regions - or ASR’s as he passed them through en route, otherwise his Altimeter would give the wrong indications. He had to use time markers at each quarter, half and three quarter points, and plot them for the return leg, so he had to maintain steady headings for known times all the way. He placed the chart on the dashboard to keep it handy. He throttled back to 240 kt that would put the ground features about 10 nm apart to verify that he will be near on track, allowing his checkpoints this far to allow him to do his other duties. He will have to read from map to ground as far as the light enables him, keeping his eyes out of the cockpit as much as possible. When darkness comes, he would then have to change to night instrument flying, which would present their own set of problems as well. He would be doing a lot of Altitude Flying. With his Performance Instruments. This was quite a skill to perform, including visualization, attitude, trim adjustments, deviations, over controlling, distractions and so forth. Luckily he does not have sensory illusions that can lead him astray…he had too many hours clocked up. Scanning the instruments would take most of his time, like the T-scan, circular scan, inverted-V Scan and keeping his eyes on the AI all the time

.Jim watched Carr as he battle through the various instruments and routine.” Say…I figure ye must be mighty wake up to know all these funny dials and stuff to fly a plane…. and I thought it was like driving a car?” he said. Carr smiled.” Waaal…it’s not so hard to fly one of these babies…as long as you remember the three basics- Motion about the lateral axis, motion about the longitudinal axis…an’ motion about the normal axis” Jim gaped at him. “ In English if you please…” Carr laughed.” O.K…pitching, rolling an’ yawning…other words to keep this baby straight an’ level…an’ not to get lost ah suppose” he answered with a grin. Jim shook his head at the way the Aussie stated the fact.” That easy eh? And what are all these meters for?” and he pointed to the instruments. Carr watched where he was pointing. “ O…that? This’ ere are the air speed indicator, turn coordinator, Altimeter, Radio panel, vertical speed indicator, Engine revs, oil and pressure gauges, suction gauges, magnetic compass, artificial horizon, mixture control, carburetor heat controls an the circuit breakers…howzat for you?’ Jim just sat there, amazed at the Aussie’s intellect.” Suppose we hit the shit up here?” he asked. Carr grinned. “ Then a suppose we chuck a Mayday on that radio on 121.5 megahertz” Jim smiled. “An how the hell do you find your way up here?” Jim asked. Carr pointed to a box in the cabin. “ Quite easy mate…they call it a transponder…fixing the old lady on a beacon…straight an’ level”

Carr knew Jim was testing his flying skills and know how. He sat back and checked his calculations. According to that they should be flying over their first checkpoint in Tanzania, a little town called Sekenke. The next would be Manyoni to the right, and then Dodoma straight ahead. The sun was setting now, throwing a glare on the windows. Jim stood up.” ‘Scuse me…I’m gonna check if the passengers are still O.K…and have a wee” he reported and disappeared through the blue cockpit curtains dividing the flight deck from the rest. Carr watched the scenery down below as it flashed by the cockpit window. He eased the throttle a bit and pushed the control column down, descending to 700 feet, and leveled her out again. The mountains created dark patches on the ground as the sun started to submerge, disabling his narrowed vision somewhat on ground markers. He adjusted the plane to ten degrees southeast. He will work straight on True Heading. He worked the calculations out again, and after having obtained the values for GS and HDG, he inserted them on the flight log. His Magnetic Variation, which was on his chart, he used to convert the True Heading into Magnetic Heading because he was using the Magnetic Compass and the Direction Indicator during this flight. Carr never before had to revert to all his flying skills because he never had to do night flying this far across country before, and one simple mistake could land them in big trouble. He kept a vigil eye on his instruments and the ground, plotting and calculating. If he can plot a precise path downwards, it was just a matter of reversing the calculations when they came back, making it so much easier. The only wild card would be if they had to divert because of ground fire or exceptionally high mountains or terrain..

For five hours they flew in silence, past Dodoma, Iringa and over the Selous Game Reserve. The passengers were fast asleep after Jim dished out food and hot coffee. It was when they flew past the stretch between Songea and Masasi, about fifty kilometers from Tunduru that they engaged their first ground fire. Carr saw red tracer bullets ripping at them in a steady stream, and by the look of it, it was 7.65 caliber Bren guns the attackers used. He altered the direction slightly and pulled up to 1500 feet. Streams of tracers followed him, but fell well short at that range. He knew he caught those bush monkeys unawares. They didn’t expect a plane this size so low over the treetops. He was about to cross the Mozambiquan border now, where urban population is more civilized, bringing forth the problem of higher obstacles and possibly ground to air missiles in the form of Rocket Propelled Guns…or RPG 7’s like the ones on the plane.. Once over Mozambiquan airspace, he would have to change course for the town of Cuamba, then straight to Manica, past the border into Rhodesia, and over the Inyangani mountains of 8504 feet. From there the next point will be the town of Masvingo and Zimbabwe, and straight to the South African border town of Beitbridge.

It was this particular stretch that Carr feared the most. It was over here that he expected retaliation from either the Rhodesian Air Force, or the S.A.A.F…or for that matter both. He steadied at 1500 feet and pushed the throttle forward to 300 kt. He had to land somewhere to refuel, and the best place according to he charts was just between Lichinga and Cuamba. Further down he would engage the Namull mountain ranges of 7936 feet above sea level, and no space for this size plane to land. They had to land far from towns or settlements for they were not authorized to fly into Mozambiquan air space, and once found, they would either be shot or incarcerated, creating a unhealthy international incident. To conclude, they had to refuel very fast with a hand on the throttle for quick take off in the right direction. Once being spotted, warnings could be sent further down that could make the situation mighty unbearable.

They flew for another couple of hours, leaving Jim time to get some shut eye, when suddenly Carr yelled at Jim to hold on and flinched the craft steep to the left and spiraled straight down so fast that Jim’s stomach turned upside down. It felt to Jim as if the craft was standing on its left wing. Carr increased the flying speed every time he commenced a steep descending turn to retain an adequate safety margin above the stalling speed at 10 kt for the 45-degree angle he turned. Carr could feel the rate of decent increased markedly, and he controlled it by reducing the bank angle, adding power now and then. When he feel the airspeed becomes excessive, he eased off the bank angle with the ailerons, and raised the nose with the elevator, then re-establishing the desired next steep turn. He kept himself aware of his proximity to the ground, and heeded against a spiral dive. He dropped like this in a spiral four or five times, then pulled the craft level by roll-off banking with ailerons, balancing with rudder, and selecting the desired pitch attitude with his elevator. and thud the throttles down, pulling the nose up, controlling the rate of decent with the power, and landed with a hell of a bounce on a patch of flat ground in the darkness of the night. It happened so fast, Jim’s brain was much too slow to register everything that happened the past five minutes or so. He was bounced around the aircraft like a rag doll, desperately trying to grab something to hold on. When he at last recovered, they were down already. Carr grinned sadistically at him.” Sorry’, bout that mate…. canna do this by the book y’ know…had to act fast” They landed about twenty kilometres from Lichinga, and Carr turned the plane into the wind for a quick take off, engines idling. He put the brakes on, and he and the still disoriented Jim rolled the drums out underneath the wings.

With a special pump they refuelled the craft, keeping a vigil watch for spectators, guns at the ready. It took them one hour to complete, and again Carr took off at full throttle with a few hops and bounces, praying not to strike a boulder or something. Once airborne, he turned off the landing lights, retracting the wheels to cut the drag, and proceeded in a steep climb to 750 feet to stay on the normal course.

They passed the mountain ranges after an hour; zig zagging between the peaks, keeping at 750 feet. Jim hung out of the plane like a sparrow to warn Carr in the moonlit night of any sudden obstacles. If ever there was some stark raving mad flying done in the history books, this was one that needed scrutiny. Carr threw the big plane this way…and that way, pulling up…and then diving down…veering to the left…and to the right. Jim had to grab hold of the window or he would have been sent sprawling into space. This Carr kept on for an hour or so, totally disorientating his poor navigator. Jim couldn’t figure out whether he was up or down…flying left or right…north or south. The Aussie was playing the craft like a bloody yo-yo. At last the aircraft steadied and Carr watched as they crossed the border past Manica and into Rhodesian air space. He turned to Jim.” From ‘ere on we better watch our tails…. we dunna want them Rhodesian fly boys to whack us one…so, keep ye eyes peeled for exhaust flames or lights around us. We are now in mighty dangerous airspace…those mates are not like the goons back there…they are trained an’ mighty jealous o’ their airspace. He warned his companion. Jim nearly fainted. If the Aussie was going to pull any worse tricks than those he just had back in Mozambique, he will be a blooming corpse if they at last would be on fair ground again. He stared at Carr.” An’ what if I see exhaust flames?” he asked. Carr gave him that sadistic grin again.” We drop to them trees and chuck in some heavy evasive action mate…” he replied. Jim was feeling nausea creeping into his stomach. “ Ohhh shit….” He moaned, and quickly strapped himself into the safety harness. Carr dropped to 500 AGL and opened the throttle wide to 450 kt. The Avros howled and whined at the sudden acceleration and the plane bucked forward. Jim grabbed his seat for support, silently praying that the angel of mercy forgive the madman behind the controls and think of the poor families at the back…and himself. Carr concentrated hard on the controls. The quicker they get out of this war torn country, where missiles bounce into the air just for a bloody inspection, the better for their health. As there was a bloody war raging here, the factions were jittery, and to down an airplane would be just in another day’s work for those matelotes. To get shot for espionage…more and less the same. Ian Smith could not control rebels from the ZANU PF of Robert Mugabe and the ZANU of Joshua Nkomo any more than he could control the Frelimo in Mozambique, so, a missile could down them from any faction, time or any direction.

The huge plane darted through the night, zipping past hills, hopping over trees and shot past the landscape like a bat out of hell as Carr worked feverishly with the controls.. Carr studied the charts well of the area, giving special attention to the height of the ground above sea level, nature of the terrain and position of the obstacles. He had limited field vision and surface features as he moved rapidly through it. He noted the obstacles prior to the low level flight. He told Jim to keep a sharp lookout for obstacles, as the Aeronautical charts did not show elevations below 500 feet AMSL, and obstacles below 300 feet AGL. The speed and drift were very obvious, and Carr was aware that tailwinds in this gorges causes false impressions of high speed, so he checked the airspeed on the ASI regularly. Another problem was the sideways drift over the ground due to the cross winds that caused false impressions of balance, so he confirmed the balance with the Balance Ball all the time. He took care to remain downwind of the mountains to avoid the wind carrying the aeroplane into them.

The air was more turbulent there due to surface friction slowing the winds down, changes in the wind speed and the uneven heating of the earth’s surface creating convection currents. He kept his hand on the throttle all the time to enable an immediate response to airspeed variations if they should occur. Carr used the precautionary configuration with an early stage of flap lowered to get a lower nose attitude with the flaps extended, and a lower cruise speed due cause of the reduced stalling speed. He could get better maneuverability and smaller radius turns because of the lower airspeed. Lastly he had better response to elevator and rudder, due to the extra power required causing a greater slipstream effect. This maneuvers caused an effect on his fuel consumption. One by one the markers flash by, Chivhu, Mvuma, Masvingo, Zimbabwe, Rutenga, and finally they saw the lights of Beitbridge approaching. Carr dimmed the navigation instrument lighting, and told Jim to inform the trekkers to get ready to skip once they land. They will have to make their own way to town and contact their respective families in the Republic. Jim did so, and stood at the ready at the door to fling it open and help unloading once they touched down. Carr brought the plane to the left to bypass the town, now spreading in front of him like a fallen Christmas tree. He dropped to 250 feet, and leveled out for the quickest touch down in peace history. He wasn’t in the mood to get entangled with any one of the Mirage family or Aermacci brothers. Nor would he like his plane impounded, him in the slammer for breaking IAAF rules, unauthorized entering of the airspaces of four countries, aiding aliens into the Republic, breaking the influx control law, crossing borders without the necessary permits and what the hell else the South Africans can chuck at him…including ten thousand reports to write…he scarcely can update his logbook!

They would throw the book at him and put him so deep in the dungeons, you would need a Howitzer to get food to him! He reckoned by now the radar tiffys at Pietersburg and Hoedspruit airbases already had him plotted on the screens, and it would not be long before the killers would be scrambled…and vectored with cutthroat precision right on top of him -if they are not airborne already. He knew the South Africans should be aware of him while he was still in Mozambique, due to their effective radar systems, and probably watched his course all the time. Carr’s nerves were in tatters. This must be mighty quick, no mistakes allowed. If he fumbles this one, he knew he will have to turn back with one hell of a speed, no second chance, and cross the border in record time, duck to the ground and stay put. Those fighter jocks from the SAAF would pounce on him like a lot of starved bullterriers, and the chance that they would miss, was one in a million. The saying goes that hell hath no fury like a SAAF fighter jock being scorned…and Carr believed that.

According to Carr’s calculations, he will have maximum ten minutes to offload, and then he must be airborne again. Anything beyond that, and his arse would be on the line, if not blown to pieces! He timed his approach with precision, and once he was parallel with the town, he dropped the power and switched the landing lights on to see where he was about to put the old plane. He saw a flat piece of ground with a small gravel road in front of him. Next to the road were a small wire fence…and some cattle grazing in the veldt. Carr switched the lights off and yanked the throttles backwards. The engines dropped their revolutions and the plane glided like an arrow down the patch. Carr dropped the landing gear, and the next second the plane struck the ground, bounced-and ploughed through the small flat shrubbery straight at the animals. Carr saw the hapless beasts scatter in all directions as the huge bird crashed into the fence, sending the steel droppers whirling in the air. One animal was scared out of its wits and dropped to the ground like a wet bag. Carr quickly cut the engines to idle, and slammed the brakes on. The plane heaved sluggish to a standstill like a huge dinosaur, and Carr jumped from the seat, scrambling down the isle. When he came down the passage, he saw Jim already pushing passengers out of the door.

Carr grabbed some luggage, and threw it out.” Watch the propellers…and run like hell people…we must leave!!!” he urged the passengers on. Women grabbed kids and ran like rabbits away from the plane. When the last one was out, Jim wished them the best of luck and slammed the door shut, while Carr stormed to the cockpit. He crashed into the seat and released the brakes. The plane roared as he slammed the throttles forward and turned to the wind. He opened the throttles at full power, and after a quick look if the passengers were clear, released the brakes. The plane rolled forward, picking up speed. At last the tail wheel lifted as the indicator show 120 kilometers per hour, still too slow for a safe take-off, but Carr knew it was now or never. Trees and flat bushes flashed by as the old bird gathered momentum in the virgin veldt. Carr just hope that one of the wing tips do not collide with a loose obstacle-or one of the thorn trees as the side vision became a blur to him. He pulled the column into his chest and sent the aircraft in a steep climb.

The engines howled miserably as it strained against the gravity. For a moment it felled as if they will fall like a stone, just hanging there in mid air, but then the old bird yanked forward…they were airborne! Carr climbed up to 200 feet and retracted the wheels…. with no success!. The warning light flashed on the dashboard. Carr tried again, and again with no results. “ What the hell’s going on?” Jim asked terrified with a huge frown. Carr sweared miserably.” The blooming wheels are stuck!!” They stared at each other in dismay.” The fence!!!” both of them shouted at the same time.” The wires of the fence must have got entangled around the wheels…what the fuck are we going to do now?” Carr slammed his fist out of fury against the control column.” We canna dare to fly like this…we gotta land…. them wheels will drag our speed an’ slow us down…gobbling our juice…making us easy meat for the shitholes on the ground.” he screamed in anger. Jim threw his hands in the air in desperation.” And where in the blue blazes are we gonna land…this place beneath us looked like a fuckin’ party full of trees!!” Carr studied the darkness around him for tell tale signs, and saw something that nearly froze his blood. Far to his left were the unmistakable flames of jet pipes tearing through the night sky.” Right mate…hang on. We’re going rabbit hunting…whether ye dig it or not!!!” he yelled and pushed the control column down. The craft dived down and Jim saw the Altimeter running like the dials of a petrol pump.

At nearly the point of a crash-land, Carr jerked the column hard backwards, and cut the engines to just above idle. The plane glided for a few seconds, then pan caked onto the ground, jumping into the air side ways with propellers spinning, and slammed into the ground again, sending its passengers scattering all over the interior, then crashing through small trees, rotating and bucking as it mesmerized vegetation in its way.. At long last it came to a shuddering standstill a couple of yards further, sending clouds of dust in the air. Carr switched all the lights off, keeping the engines at idling speed. He called Jim and they jumped out of the craft with a pair of huge pliers each from the toolbox at the back. They ran to the wheels, and saw that the wires had entangled themselves around the left main landing spar, prohibiting the wheel from retracting. Furiously they tackled the wire. They heard a jet engine booming past and saw the red and green navigation lights flashing past , ripping into the black night sky -and another, and another as three fighters whipped past them in subsonic flight, keeping low over the treetops. Their hunters made a wide arc, and passed them again, more to the right. They watched the lights turning back again and shot over their heads like angry wasps, after burners shaking the ground with thunder, gaining height, climbing to the right, their SNECMA ATAR engines at the full, and disappeared to the south.

Carr looked at Jim, visibly shaken, the wheel now free.” They’re looking for us….ah hope they haven’t seen us an’ decided to ram an air to ground missile up our arses. C’mon mate…time to go…. it’s gonna get mighty unhealthy roundabouts ‘ere…let’s scamper…get the fuck outta ‘ere. Quick!” he urged, and they bundled into the plane. Carr ran to the cockpit and flopped into the seat. For the second time that night he performed an emergency take off through the bush…clipping treetops, and just made it. Next to him, Jim nearly had an attack of the fits as he tried to stay in his seat. Like a madman he hollered and bellowed to Carr in the worst vulgar language known to mankind. The airplane battled, swerved and bounced as it was thrown around in an effort to gain height. Once they were airborne, Carr ascend to 500 feet and opened the throttle to full power to get as far away as possible. Jim threw his head back on the headrest, still having the jitters very much. The poor man was drenched in cold sweat.” You are a fuckin madman…fuckin mad…and those budgies… Nasty fuckers… nasty fuckers I tell you…jeez…they were onto us helluva quick…I think we stirred quite a hornet’s nest back there. Imagine the newspapers tomorrow: Plane jumped onto cow, fucking her with a bob wire! What a laugh. Shit…I don’t want to pull that off again! Gawsh, I never saw anything like that in my whole blooming life….ah thought I am going to get flattened against a blinking tree or mountain the way you chucked this piece of scrap iron around….an’ that in the flippen night!! We nearly hanged like bats back there when you pulled that stunt on take off…hell, I swear I could feel that trees scraping the skin off my bloody arse!. One inch lower, an’ we would’ve been laying eggs with the bloomin’ birds. I sort of now understand why your other plane wuz lying on it’s back… the way you did that piece of flying back there, I recon you could turn a bloody Boeing on it’s back, and fly it damn will backwards. Ye think they would follow us?” he rattled to release the tension inside him.

Carr shook his head.” Nah…ah recon they either missed us completely…or reported our position for a recce party…they will nah follow us…not enough fuel fa that kinda stunt…those birds guzzle AFGAS like hell…quite a remarkable bunch o’fellas, that countrymen o’ yours” he proclaimed and wiped the sweat off his face. Now it was only the journey back to concentrate on. It took them thirteen hours to get down here, and with luck, they could do the same back, if they could stay awake. Carr just want to get to Tanzania, then he would land to refuel again, and rest a couple of hours before returning to Kenya.. The morning light greeted them, as they turned towards the interior of Rhodesia again, tired, but satisfied. For both Carr and Jim it was a long hellish night that drained their bodies and spirits, pushing them to breaking point, and wearing them down psychologically.

Carr And Jim was extremely tired. After long hours flying, they could barely keep their eyes open. Carr watched the fuel gauges. He estimated they have one to one and a half hour flying time left. For a long moment he thought, and then an idea struck him. Cane Westwood! Cane was a Rhodesian aviator that owns a tobacco farm and shuttle service about forty odd kilometers east of Zimbabwe, a major town about a hundred kilometers from the Chiredzi River, one of their beacons. Cane is shuttling visitors from Zimbabwe, a town that derived its name from the huge Acropolis, or ruins build by Shona people between the tenth and fifteenth century, to Bulawayo, and right up to the Victoria Falls, on the far western corner of Rhodesia on the Zambian border. He met Cane once or twice during his trips to South Africa. He remembered Cane once mentioning to him that he owns a small landing strip as he was a small plane operator, and also owns the local crop-spraying helicopter. He wondered what Cane would say if they suddenly dropped in. Carr watched the fuel gauges again. There was no way they would make it even as far as Masvigo, not even to mention tackling the Inyangani highlands. “ Waal, here we come mister Cane…ready or not!!” he thought. He turned the plane fifteen degrees northeast and dropped to 200 feet. Jim noticed the sudden change in course and height.” Okey, mister Aussieman…. what surprise have though in store for us this time…if I may ask?” he yawned.

Carr grinned a wide grin.” Ohhhh…ah say mate…ah’ve suddenly remembered an olde flying mate o’ mine that I know since wayyyyy back. Ah recon we ought to drop in fa a cuppa char…don’t ya recon?” he answered laconically. Jim snorted.” So…what I in fact hear, is that them tanks are nearly empty…. and you’d rather drop unexpectedly in at this olde friend…. and get gas…or crash-land unexpectedly at the olde enemy…and get shot…is that right?” and he yawned again, placing his feet on the console. Carr shook his head in acknowledgment.” As you say partner…as you say” Carr stretched his numb limbs. “ And what if this olde friend doesn’t want to give you gas…. or are not at home?” Carr grinned again. “ Oh, ah won’t let small things like that bother us… now would ah…he will..fair good sport he is ah recon…as mates go” Jim eyed Carr.” What my royal ears detect, is that when good ol’ mate is out, or decline the generous offer you are gonna make…then we will steal some…ain’t that right…. partner?” he enquired. Again Carr shook his Aussie head. “ As you just said partner…as you just said” Jim smiled. He couldn’t figure the Aussie out. Living like a flippen Nomad…stealing here…bargaining there…intrude here…scrounching there and that way earning a living.

Jim stared at Carr. Carr noticed the interesting look he gave him.” What?” he asked amused. Jim laughed. “ How is it that you never got whacked…sitting here high and dry as if you don’t have a worry in the world…and in the meantime we got shot at, searched for, intruding airspaces, having half of the African Air forces sitting on our arses, have no legal permits, dropping illegal aliens…and no juice…an’ ye just sit there as if God will let us float home on a little passing cloud…. ain’t you sometimes get worried that one day you are gonna push it a little too far?” he asked cynically. Jim whistled softly. “ Aah would nah worry ‘bout that mate…an’ besides…this ain’t the first time a’ve screwed the pooch…b’sides…these Rhodesians mah have them guts…but with them derelict aircraft they have…. ah wouldn’t worry about them catching a blooming cold if I were you…as the man said…if a man must go…ah recon a man must go…if ye time is up…it’s up” he answered. “ Yep..I sort of agree…if your time is up…then it’s up…but nobody said mine will be up...if you go…you go alone. Ye ain’t gonna take me with ya” Jim pointed out. Carr looked at Jim. “ Ye rather wanna footslog mate?” he asked with a grin. Jim watched him. “Aussieman…. shuddap an’ drive this junk heap o’ I’ll clobber ye one” he answered angrily in make believe. “ Ah thought as much…na ya just sit an’ keep ya trap shut…ah’ll do the worrying…if we stop without them juice…ah’ll then ask ye ta to do the pushing…an’ then ya can start bitching…in the meantime...relax…ye’ll get home safe an’ sound, whether Gawd sent them cloud or not…ye’ll get home” Carr pressed home the attack.

They flew for another three quarter of an hour, when Carr lowered the aircraft and dropped the landing gear, turning the craft into the wind. Jim sat up straight, and peered over the dashboard to where Carr pointed. There, far below to their right, at a 45-degree angle, was a landing strip between the low thorn trees, with three makeshift hangars out of corrugated iron and zinc. A few piper and Cessna aircraft were parked next to the hangars. To the right was an old farmhouse with an orchard behind it, nestled in between huge tobacco fields. They turned and Carr lined the aircraft for the landing, descending fast to do a perfect touch down. The trees came up to meet them. The hangars grew larger and larger. At the start of the runway, Carr applied full flaps and pull the throttles half way back. The aircraft touched down without a single hop, and Carr decreased the power some more. The back of the craft lowered until the back landing wheel also touched down, then he applied brakes and cut the engines to idle. The craft slowed to a halt. Jim grinned. “That was the damn best landing ye did so far with this piece o’ junk” he exclaimed, patting Carr on the shoulder. Carr added power, whilst keeping the left pedal down, and the craft rotated on the left wheel, turning left, then straightened out as Carr released the brake, adding more power, rolling towards the nearest hangar. About fifty meters from the construction, Carr applied right brake, swinging the craft to the right, leveling it parallel with the building, and cut the engines.

After he secured the hand brake, they disembarked from the craft into the bright warm morning sunlight. They stood there, expectantly for nearly ten minutes, when at last a dirty white male in overalls came out of one of the hangars, wiping his hands on a grease drenched piece of cloth, eyeing them suspiciously, then walked up to them. “ Can I help you fellas…Carr!!!! My good God…Carr Hardley!!! Now what in the bloody world brought you down here? Ain’t you supposed to be fighting for your freedom and all that crap in Kenya? My good Lord…this is a surprise…I thought they blew you to hell and back a long time ago…not up to your old nasty tricks again I s’ppose ? What the hell, welcome to my humble home old buddy!” the man said and stretched out his hands and embraced the Aussie while Jim just watched the spectacle. Carr patted the Rhodesian on the back.” Howzit mate…never thought ah would see ya alive...thought them Africans drowned ye in the Vic Falls…. Cane…meet Jim…Jim…Cane Westwood” he introduced them to each other. They shook hands and Cane invited them for a cold Lager. “ Sorry that I looked like this…oiled and so on…but I am pulling that Piper Cub’s engine…she needs an overall...done quite an extensive mileage” he apologized. Carr watched him laughingly. “ Oiled…ye look marinated in the shit mate!” he retorted. Cane shook his shoulders to Jim. “ That’s the Australian…always ready with an answer” Jim shook his head. “ That’s not all he’s always ready with…don’t forget the surprises” he answered. Cane laughed. “ Surprise…God, that was the first expression on his mother’s face when she saw his ugly mug the day he was born!” he joked. Laughing and talking, they went up to the house to have that promised cold Lager.

CHAPTER 26

The sun now was emerging beyond the horizon, getting hot and its ultra violet rays pierced the ozone layer as the trucks sped on their way towards their first crossing point, the Mara River, about eighty kilometers from Kisumu.. The trekkers passed through small villages along the road where locals waved at them as they thundered past the small dwellings. They slowed down as they entered these villages, as not to overrun an over zealous child crossing the road. Frank instructed the drivers not to stop at these villages at any time, for it was common knowledge that the Mau Mau uses such villages as a source of information, to hide and get food. Their first stop will be at Nakuru, where they will replenish for the trek through the western side of The Great Rift Valley, bypassing Mount Kenya on the South Western side on their way to Nairobi, where they will leaguer for the night. Frank had decided that they would not enter Nairobi, out of fear of possible theft during the night. The trucks were at best doing sixty kilometres per hour, due to the heavy-laden bowzer. On the slopes of the Great RiverValley, it would be another story. The road between Kisumu and the Mara River is fairly accessible, but once over the river, it became hazardous and on certain places inaccessible. Frank hoped that they would not encounter rain for at least another two hundred kilometres. So far there was no sign of clouds becoming saturated, but Frank knew that in theses parts the clouds drift around with buckets, at the ready to fill them over the first water they cross. One moment you would stare at an empty sky, the next it will pour down in a raging storm, that is why a person must keep an eye upwards all the time, and at the first sight of darkening clouds or lightning, stop and lay low.

A slight north-easterly wind was blowing, indicating that there was no immediate rain. The wind was blowing from the interior, moving over the hot earth, and not over the ocean, thus not having a chance to move over water. They were about five kilometres from the river when the first of their problems emerged as the truck of Dave Elliot picked up a leak in the right rear tire, and subsequently had a blow out, thus forcing them to stop and do the necessary repairs, which delayed. them for and hour and a half. At just before seven they eventually crossed the river without further incidents, where they stopped and checked their water supplies, as well as the water levels of the radiators. Extra water was loaded, as the trucks would work hard up the slopes of the Valley, and over heating the main concern. They rested for ten minutes, having a cup of coffee, walked around a bit, having a wee, inspecting the cargos, tires, and then mounted again for the uphill battle that lied in front of them.

It was a quarter to seven when they got started again. The terrain became rocky and it became rougher as it systematically climbed towards the higher grounds. They started to move into the faults where the tectonic plates moved away from each other, and some traces of erosion were immanent. The continental crust was soft and the heavy trucks started to battle their way upwards towards the slopes. The terrain became steep sided where the crust has been pulled apart, and the trucks had to move cautiously at some places, slipping and sliding, gnawing their way up, their huge tires digging into the soft loose sand. Frank thrust the truck into high gear and pressed the accelerator down. The Bedford whined and slid as the wheels grapple for a foothold. On some places the granite rocks barred the path, and the drivers had a hard time swerving to evade the sedimentary and igneous boulders on the loose sail. Frank requested the help of Lawry, who acted as the other spare driver, except for Dr.Lowe, to walk ahead of the convoy, steering them clear of any outstanding rocks that might damage an axle. The boulder strewn little mountain path suddenly curved into a U-bend to the right, and narrowed on its most bended part, creating a treacherous turn.

Frank halted the convoy and got out to inspect the width of the turn, and saw that the broad trucks would only just fit onto it without dropping over the steep side on the left. He told the drivers to engage the turn one at a time, moving very slowly and cautiously through the bend. Chains was linked from each truck to the other in case one should slip, so that the others could pull it back again. He got into his truck, and slammed it into first gear, slowly edging forward. The chains between the vehicles pulled taught, and cautiously the strange procession edged through the dangerous bend. As they were about to clear the turn, the bower suddenly lost its foothold on the loose sand, and its rear wheel shifting over the edge, causing the vehicle tilt sharp to the left, its wheel hanging in mid-air. Shouts to halt the procession echoed through the canyons.

Frank got out and instructed the others to stay in their vehicles, be at the ready to maneuver when he gave the word. He walked up to the African driver that sat frozen in his cabin, too scared to make a move in fear of tumbling over the edge. He assured the driver that it was all right.” Maseme…you just sit tight and don’t move. If I give you the sign, you must slam the gear in first, turn your steering wheel sharp to the right, and push the accelerator hard down. The other trucks will anchor you from behind, and the ones in the front will pull you onto the road again” he instructed the frightened Swahili. He then walked to each truck and made sure the chains are secured, telling each driver what he expected. When this was completed, Frank got into his cab, and slowly pulled forward. The truck behind did the same, keeping the chains taut, and the trucks at the rear stood their ground, anchoring from behind. At the given signal, the Swahili driver slammed the bower in first, turned the steering, and nearly stamped the accelerator through the floorboard.

The wheels of the bower dug into the soft earth, rocking the truck sideways, nearly toppling it. The chains were strained to breaking point as the trucks in the rear pulled backwards to keep it steady. At Franks second signal, they eased forward, and the bower shuddered onto the road, the right rear wheel biting chunks of earth out of the fragile edge, forcing its way onto the road. Suddenly the revolutions of the bower dropped as it jumped onto the road…they did it!! Slowly they moved forward until the whole convoy was clear, then stopped to assess the situation and give their nerves a chance to calm down. Frank and the others inspected the road, and saw that never again would another heavy vehicle pass through the gap again. The bower narrowed the road considerably with its rear wheel.

As the morning sun began his journey into the sky, orange laded figures moved swiftly and silently through the tall savannah grasses towards the mountains. About three hundred warriors in war paint operated as one force. Each one understands his mission. No words or commands were needed. Like a swarm of fire ants they worked together as a unit. They know this kind of maneuvers. Lots of times have they stalked the enemy before. In a straight line they approached the mountain pass with their long spears at the ready. All eyes were centered on the scouts that went up the mountain earlier. They spotted their quarry a while ago, and is now following them like a pack of lions stalking their prey. They saw the iron horses battled to get through the gap in the pass, but Wasiri decided that there was no position to attack from, so they moved in a wide arc to a place where the road came down a steep slope towards the savannah. A party of warriors was ordered to move ahead of the main force and to attack from the right flank. As soon as the whites were engaged in battle with the first wave, then only will the main force attack from the rear left. The position of attack will also be suitable for the warriors to hide in the tall grasses, and so be difficult targets for the thunder sticks. They will attack and retreat in quick successions wave after wave as to confuse the whites.

It was not long before the scouts indicated that the iron horses are entering the last turn before taking the downward slope. Wasiri gave a sign and the warriors sank to the ground, melting into the surroundings. As he awaits the start of the attack, Wasiri thought about the past few days. He knew he was not going back to his people. This was to be his last battle for his tribe. He was old, tired and broken. He thought about Kasimati, his brother he had to murder to quench the blood thirst of that evil trickster Semphelinge. He thought of Kgadi, and wonders if he will see the wise one in the spirit world. Instinctively he knew that when the fireball greets the earth again, he, Wasiri Mtetwa, would not see it again. He will then be in Thlokotsadi, resting place of all the brave warriors. As a grim reminder of the reality to come, he felt the jar with the souls of the warriors pressing in his pouch against his side. He looked at his warriors as they sat crouched around him, waiting for his signal. Softly he called Otanyo, his second in command. As the younger warrior made his way to Wasiri, the old one signaled him to come close. In a whispered tone he instructed him what to do in the event of his own demise. He told him about the offerings of white children to Ramirake, the unification process of the souls and what to do with the stricken warriors in to-days battle. He also warned him of Semphelinge-the bad one, and Kgadi, the good one.

It was the dust in the mountain slope that made Wasiri come back to reality. Small specs appear in the gaps in the mountain. He knew the battle is about to begin. With a nod he gave the instruction to start the first phase of battle. A low humming stretched across the field as the warriors started their war chant. In short bursts they growled like lions, first in soft tones, then harder and harder while waiting for the attack signal. Wasiri waited until the vehicles drove past them in a convoy before he signalled to the scouts to relay the attack signal. From the mountain the scouts waved at the party in front to start, and then all hell broke loose. With all the power they could muster, the party flew out of their hidings, and stormed the trucks with spears at the throwing position. In total confusion of the suddenness of the attack, the trucks shuddered to a halt in a cloud of dust, and doors flew open. All over the area there were bodies diving for cover, and shots started to ring out in retaliation. Wasiri saw his warriors storming the whites, spears piercing the skies, sticking into the canvasses of the trucks. He also saw some of his braves bucking under the hail of fire now erupting from the convoy. He waited until the first wave withdrew from their first attack- then he gave the signal for the main force to attack. As one man the warriors stood up, and with bloodthirsty cries, flung themselves into the attack.

CHAPTER 27

John and Agnes walked for hours. John knew that they had to make as much time as possible to get to the safety of Nairobi. The one major problem they could face if they do not get a lift, was that they’re heading straight for Mount Kenya, which were situated slap bang between them and the capital. They had to go around the mountain, which would lead them straight into Mau-Mau territory. He realized that when it boils down to that, they had to move in the darkness of night to avoid preying eyes, which again would open them up to night hunters like lion or tigers. John set a steady pace. He felt sorry for Agnes, but under these circumstances there was no other way. He looked to Agnes that paced behind him. “ You still all right?” he asked. She was sweating in the hot sun, and he could hear her tired breathing. She was staring past him as if in a delirium. “ Yea…I’m O.K How far before we take a rest? This sack is killing me” she gasped. John eyed the horizon. “ Just a little bit more…. about three miles”

Agnes stared at him in disbelief. “ Three miles…John…I don’t think I can handle it… my feet is all blisters…please..” He stopped and turned to her. “ I know how you must feel…I know it’s hard…but we have to couver as much distance during daylight as we can. I realized something….Nanyuki is situated about twenty miles to our right…now if we can go as far as we can to-day, we can reach the town by tomorrow… and rest for at least two days…” Agnes stopped dead in her tracks. She whipped the sack off her back and throws it on the ground with a thud, eyeing him viciously. “ WHAT?! You want to do WHAT? I’ve been raped! Have you ever been raped..No sir…so don’t you tell me you know how it feels! I haven’t had a cigarette for two days…I walked with you through water, grass, mud these past two days…I’ve been bitten by God knows how many pests…. my back is been scarfed raw by this bloody sack….my feet are bleeding from this damn sandals….and you just refuse me a rest!! To hell with you mister..I’m taking a break right now and there is not a blooming thing you are going to do about it! If you want to go…then piss off…I’ll find my own way out of here!” she screamed hysterically. John stopped abruptly. He was stunned by her sudden outburst. In disbelief he stared at her. He realized it was the strain that was creating her behavior. For a moment they stared at each other, then he took his sack off his back. “ O.K..O.K…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to be rude…let’s stay here for a while until you feel better.” He apologized. John noticed that the wind picked up and gushes of wind ran through the grass, pressing them down as it encounters the tops. He looked up towards the direction the wind was coming from. To his horror he saw ominous clouds gathering from a North- Easterly corner. “ O no…” he whispered. Agnes looked at him questiongly. “ Oh no what..?” He pointed to the new menace. “ I do not want to disturb your rest my dear…but I do believe we better find some cover before that storm hit us” and he picked up his sack again. Agnes looked backwards and saw the mauling clouds heading their way. “ O no. Not that as well. Even the bloody nature are against me..” she complained bitterly as she staggered upright, hobbling on one leg. John only smiled a hidden smile at her discomfort. He saw a thicket about two hundred meters to his right. “ C’mon…we head for that bush…I will cut some grass and build a hut to keep us dry. That rain is still about three to four hours away. By that time we will be safe and dry…let’s go!” he commands and set a pace for the foyer.

When the thunderstorm eventually erupted, John’s protective hut was finished. He cut down the inner of the bush, cut grass and stacked them on the sides of the bush, creating a wall. He next bent the branches of the bush in an arch, fastens them with long stalks of grass to form a frame, and fastened thick layers of grass on top to build a roof. The hut was about three meters in diameter, and two meters in height. It was sturdy and withstood the wind. When it started to rain, he also felt good about his craftsmanship of the roof- no leaks. He and Agnes sat huddled inside the hut, watching the downpour. She was messaging her sore feet and pouring water on the blisters. As the wind shook the hut, she crept up to him like a scared animal. “ I’m sorry about my tantrum…I lost it a bit I suppose..” she apologized. John pulled her closer. “ That’s O.K. I understand. I don’t blame you…it has been rough on you…I know. C’mon…let’s eat something then unroll the sleeping bags and call it a day…I think we have had enough starking moments of terror for the day.” With that he opened a bag of rusks and start to make a small fire for black coffee before they shut down for the night.

Outside, in the darkness of night, not far away from the makeshift hut, a pair of hungry eyes was watching their every move closely. For miles now the silent hunter of the night has been following the trail of the two unsuspecting stragglers. He stayed on their track, led by the faint scent of blood, but kept back about five hundred yards, moving silently through the grass coverage as to stay undetected in the daylight. His keen senses told him that these strange creatures are edible, but raw instinct warned him that somehow danger is at hand. His quarry do not act as other prey did…their pattern does not fit the normal code of reaction. Other game would have pick-up the scent of the hunter long ago with the changing winds and fled, but these animals keep on with a normal behavior- and that made him uneasy. Their scent also is unknown to him. Only dangerous preys that do not fear him smell and act that way. Years of experience taught him to obey his natural senses and patience paid of more than once. He stayed on a safe distance until opportunity shows itself for an attack

The cloak of darkness brought coverage for the prowler as always, but every time he tried to move closer to attacking position, one of the creatures stood up and moved into his direction. He had to scamper swiftly as to stay undetected, not knowing whether the strange animal is about to attack or not. Now, after many miles of hunger and stalking, at last there was a chance to attack. His empty stomach was driving him towards this quarry for days now, trailing, stalking, hiding, and trailing again until he could endure no more. Now was the time to finalize the hunt. He crouched low on the ground, tail twitching spasmodically, concentrating on the distance and speed needed. The night hunter was about to start moving forward when suddenly a loud rumble frightened him out of his wits. He instinctively swung around to face the sudden disruption of the hunt, ready for action, and then looked into the sky in awe. The storm has arrived. With a gush of wind and the sound of thunder the downpour started. Lightning flashed and illuminated the night with short bursts. Angrily, windswept and drenched by rain, he stood there for a while, watching the hut over his shoulder, realizing the element of surprise was gone, then with a soft growl of dismay, he slowly turned away and melted back into the Kikuyu grass towards the shelter of a low tree to wait out the storm. Instinct told him that this was not the opportunity as yet. The storm now erupted in full force- as-if deciding that the night now belongs to the orchestral maneuvers of the elements through the conducting of thunder and lightning.

CHAPTER 28

Shamus moved quite fast for his size, and David had to move his stride to keep up with the big guy to the bridge. The stench of fish and mixture of oil and smoke hung heavy on the docks. Here and there people are starting to get ready for the day. David could hear one or the other uncivilized woman yelling to somebody- her pitched voice trailing across the harbor. Milkmen are rolling their carts down the still empty streets and dock workers started to unwillingly arrive on their way towards their work places. At the door of the cabin Shamus told David to stay put outside until called for. Captains order that no unauthorized person is allowed to enter his domain until told to do so -Shamus said. With that he disappeared through the cabin door while David downed his bags awaiting his introduction. As he stared across the docks he could hear voices inside the cabin. He was still staring when the door flung open, exhibiting Shamus’s ugly mug. “ Right laddie….bossman wanna see ye…not te worry lad…just say “ ye” ‘un” na” where ye s’ppose to….un’ “Aye Cap’n” when ye finish..an’ ye be alwright” he quickly instructed in a hushed tone to David who was nearly paralyzed by his breath.

O’Reily was typical an Irishman, a short bulky man with fiery red hair and a temper to match it. David knew all too well that the Irish don’t have too much love for the English, and decided to be the lesser of the two evils for this trip. He just wants to get to Africa, no matter whether he has to take a ride with Hades or not. Politely he nodded. “ Good-Morning captain. I’m David Bascombe from Leicester sir…please to meet you..” he introduced himself. O’Reily stood up from his chair, sipping a mug of hot coffee with a spot of “Scotch” to warm him up. He slowly strolled up ‘till he was face to face with David. Carefully, like a purchaser inspecting livestock- he inspected David from head to toe. “ Who the hell did ye say ye were?” he enquired squint-eyed. David cleaned his throat between the Whiskey whiffs.. “ David Bascombe from Leichester sir..” he repeated. O’Reily studied him for a moment, and then went into deep thought. “ Bascombe…ye said..Bascombe..now where did I ‘ere that name before….Bascombe,Bascombe..” For a moment there was silence, then the old man look to David with a new expression. “ O ye..Now ah know…ye dunna wanna tell me ye are ba any chance related to olde Jeremy… that a lord o’ the ministry…do ye?” he enquired with a devilish grin. David couldn’t decide if he must tell the truth or not. He knew these Irish blame the English for a lot of things, and the chances that his dad was to blame for one or the other may be a possibility. Slowly he shook his head-not knowing what to expect. “ Yes sir…he’s…he’s my father” he stammered. Silence prevailed for the next ten or so seconds as O’Reily soaked this in, eyes now wide in awe. He gaped at David wide-eyed. “ By all de gods…Ah told ye dem flaming seagulls would pick up damn weird stuff. Just na look at this- they made a bloody turn at Whitehall…”

Shamus growled from behind. O’Reily turned to the big man. “ Shut up ye bloody face, ye damn Scotchman..!” he hissed in a low voice, turning back to David. “ Now what in the hell would the pup of a big shot politician be doing in a place like this. Lost ye way a bit me lad? Ol’ Jeremy knows ye are ‘ere?” he enquired suspiciously. David stood up straight. “ No sir…my father do not know of my whereabouts. This was my own decision to go to Africa” he replied proudly. O’Reily just smiled cynically and shook his head. “ Africa ye say…ever b’n to Africa laddie?” David gulped. “ No sir…first time” O’Reily watched him closely.” T’ do what..ye going on ‘oliday or something?” David shook his head. No sir,..adventure actually” he replied. O’Reily snorted.” So..ye’re telling me ye’re factually runnin’ away from old guts an’ glory? M’lad- take advice from an olde seadog……why don’ ye go home? Go back to your family an’ your money. This is no place for aristocracy. What do ye reckon will your father do if he finds out I was harboring his lost pup? Ye realize one squeak from daddy an’ ah could lose my captain’s license? A’ll be sweeping pavements in Glasgow fe the rest o’ me blooming life ye know… too damn risky! Shamus, Take the lad back..” he said and turned around. “ No…no please sir…don’t do that! I will pay whatever you want…I..I will stoke your boilers…wash the decks…anything..Please …let me go with you…I beg you.!” David pleaded nearly in tears. O’Reily slowly turned back to David, studying the desperate face in front of him. “ Ye really are serious..ain’t ya m’laddie?” he said with earnest in his voice. David saw his chance. “ Yes sir…I am sir”

O’Reily thought for a long moment. “ O.K then…but the first smell of trouble..you are on yer own..I throw ye off this ship O.K? Ah don’ nah want any trouble from the likes of you- or havin’ de whole damn English fleet blowin’ in ma neck…understands? We dock in Mombassa in two weeks…an’ in that time ah dunna wanna see o’ hear ye…ye keep ye mutt below decks..afta that- ah don’ know you…an’ ye never haf laid eyes on me…that’s de deal….O.K?” he replied. David nearly embraced the old seadog. “ Thank-you..thank you sir…I understand completely…. Aye captain” David saluted smartly and turned to the door. O’Reily looked at him in amazement. “ Shamus…take the lad to ye quarters an’ show him what t’ do….an’ Shamus…ah don’ wanna see his face on the upper deck once…nah unless we’re well and far away into de deep seas..understand laddie?” he said and turned to his Whiskey. He watched as the big man escorted David down below. “ Damnations…of all de gods in de world..now whaddya know…one day ye hate the bastards…the other ye help them..” he mumbled with a grin as he turned to the chair.

Shamus led the grateful David down a set of stairs to the lower decks. After what felt like an eternity they reached a dark passage, only lit by dim lights in the ceiling, David could hardly stand the stench of oil and sweat as they entered the mess deck. Shamus greeted a few oil rats that David took was the kitchen personnel as they walked through. All of the men looked like deck hands from a pirate movie. He could see the hard lines on their faces as they stared at him, dressed in a neat three-piece suit as he passes them. Shamus half turned and waved. “ Heya mateys…meet our new stoker..” he bellowed and proceeded through a small door leading into a passage to the sleeping quarters. David acknowledges the greeting eyes and saw the expressions of their faces were that of utter disbelief. They reminded him of a bunch of monkeys on their first Banana trip. They passed the group of stunned sailors, and David could hear them roar with laughter as they saw he was gone. He knew he was the counterpoint of their stupid conversation. As they entered the sleeping quarters,

David had to hold his breath as not to puke openly there and then. The quarters were filthy, small, and in disarray. In some of the bunks he could recognize bundles of human silhouettes snoring their previous night’s drunken hollies away. The stench of stinking feet, old liquor and sweat dominated the area. David closed his nostrils as his eyes were watering of the hot humid atmosphere. Shamus stopped at a bunk on the far sided corner and with a smirk tapped on it as happily as a drummer boy would on his first drum. “ Thar ye are matey. Ye’ll be sharing th’ olde bunk with Tommy Cargoolie…ye other stoker mate. Ye’ll be working three shifts o’ eight hours each…eight on..eight off…eight on and so on. Chau is at six in the morning, one- an’ six in the afternoon. Ye c’n take a shower na ‘n then just below the mess deck ba the toilets. Don’ worry ‘bout the other laddies..they’re O.K once ye meet ‘em. Little bit scruffy ‘round the collar..bit good lads if ya know ‘em. C’mon..throw ye stuff on the bunk ‘ere..A’ll take ye t’ meet Tommyboy an’ ye boilers… an’ o yea… before ah forgot…get rid of them fancy pants ye’re wearing…it ain’t melting that good with the surrounding ye know..Some o’ the other lads may see it th’ wrong way an’ take it ye are a gunner rear….a sewer drill y’know.. ” he ended, and with another slap on the back, he passed David towards the exit. David stood in awe for a while. He doesn’t mind working at the boilers, but this room will be his nemeses.. for sure. How the hell will he be able to endure this rot for two weeks? The stench will surely kill him before the hard work do- he can bet on that. With a knot in his stomach he turned towards the exit to join Shamus on their next sight seeing trip through the hull of horrors.

CHAPTER 29

Carr and Jim took the opportunity to have a good rest after the night’s escapades. Cane had cold beer a plenty stashed in his freezer, and the two adventurers took more than their share of the nectar of the gods. Cane instructed his wife to get some meat for a barbeque that night. He invited them to stay ‘till the next day while his two mechanics service and refuel the Dakota. The three of them talked about the different wars they were involved in until suppertime. After they had a hearty meal, Cane invited them to join him to one of the hangars- a zinc structure more or less 500 yards from the others. They stopped at the entrance, and in the dim light of the torch Cane was carrying; he opened a rusty old lock that kept the side door fastened to the building.” C’mon” he said, and looked suspiciously over their shoulders to see if nobody was watching them. They entered into the dark building, and they could smell the reek of diesoline and oil. Cane led them with the torch through the heaps of engine parts, tables and all kind of mechanical junk.

At the far side of the hangar, there was a small opening between the shelves of engine parts, which led to a small door. Carr unlock it, and they were hustled into a little room of about sixty square meters. Cane switched on a single electrical globe hanging from the ceiling. It took the other two a second or so to get used to the light, but when they did, both could feel their jaws dropping. Around them it looked like a small arsenal of light, medium and heavy weaponry. It took them a few seconds to gather their posture. “ My good god…. what the hell are you doing with this lot?” Carr whispered in awe and let out a soft whistle. He looked at Cane - who enjoyed every moment of their dumb stares.

Cane walked up to one of the weapons and picked it up. “ Browning…7.65 caliber…good for mowing down a couple of those bastards up in your alley” he exclaimed with a triumphant grin. Carr looked at him in surprise. “ A’ know what the ‘ell that is mate…what a wanna know is where the ‘ell ya got it from? A dunna recon ye bought ‘em from ya local vendor shoppe?” Cane saw the glint in Carr’s eyes. “ Well-yes and no. This war tends to turn up strange behaviors. You know the old saying of my enemy’s enemy is my best friend? I traded with a vendor shop-but no-not locally- from my enemy’s enemy you could say-you like them?” Carr took the weapon from Cane and stroked it lovingly. “Like it….mate…with these ‘ere baby and some friends we c’n create quite a ruckus up there where ah came from…what do you want for these ‘ere babies?” Cane watched Carr’s movements. “Tell ye what….you don’t owe me nothing! Just take them and put them to good use…you know what I mean? They ‘ve been here for almost a year and then some- I can’t use them. Here…I have a couple of spare boxes of extras if you want them too..” and he opened a couple of army green crates on the floor. Inside was rocket propelled guns, ammunition, hand grenades, flares, and bush night equipment. Carr stepped closer. “ Ye musta made a fair dunkum exchange for these ‘ere lot” Cane smiled. “Don’t ask stupid questions, and you’re not liable to hear stupid lies. C’mon- tell your friend here to stop gawking and let’s load this shit into your wagon before the wrong customer sees us” and he started to shut the lids.

It took all of four hours to load all the equipment into the airplane. By the time they were finished, all three men were dog tired, so they returned to the farmhouse and slept until about ten that morning.

Carr was first to be woken by Cane.” Hello there Aussieman…rise and shine.look what a beautiful day rose upon us. C’mon-wake your partner. You’re late…I want to show you something” and the Rhodesian walked out of a still bewildered Carr’s sleeping quarter. Slowly Carr rose and woke Jim who was still paying taxes to the god of the winery. After they had washed, Cane’s wife prepared a meal of bacon and eggs with battered toast. A good cup of coffee sealed their meal and they set off to see Cane’s newest surprise.

The sun already was getting real nasty when at last they stood next to the aircraft. Carr stood for a moment in silence. Jim started to giggle like a young school pup on her first date. What they saw only led to Carr shaking his head. Two of the windows on the left side of the DC 3 have been removed, and the ugly barrels of two Vickers machine guns stuck out of the openings like thorns. Cane’s henchmen changed the aircraft to a gunship!

Carr snorted and grinned like a monkey stealing forbidden fruit. Jim was in his element, and walked up to the new attachments.” Waal, my Aussy friend. This old scrap heap surely now are going through some interesting metamorphoses- first a freighter, then a passenger liner…and now a gunship! Brother…next will be a stunt plane… I presume?” Carr just stood there- watching Jim admiring the new toys. “ You’ll get more than ye fair share o’ stunts the next couple o’ hours ma’ partner…more than ye fair share..” he exclaimed with a deep frown. Cane turned to Carr. “ So, my brother in arms..Whaddya think? You recon you’ll be ready for your coming adventures now?” Carr turned to Cane questiongly. “ What d’ ya know of our coming adventures? How did ye recon we gonna need this ‘ere ‘ardware…brother in arms?” he asked cynically. Cane just laughed. “ I’m not deaf you know…maybe a bit stupid…but not deaf. Last night I heard you two warmongers talking about your return trip…and the plans you made to organize yourselves a safe trip up to the north. So, I couldn’t help to feel sorry for you- soft spot I always have for stragglers- and I saw to it that you get equipped! You’ll find six forty gallon drums full of AFGAS in the rear…for a safer passage I reasoned” Carr stood there for awile, soaking this new turn of circumstances, then he slowly took Cane in his arms and gave him a huge bear hug.” Damm ye, ye old Bush pig! I didn’t drop in to ransack ye whole arsenal ye know….but thanks a plenty…ye’re a fair good sport mate…an’ a mean that1” he said and wiped the wetness from his eyes.

Jim watched him with a grin on his smirk.” My, my, my… Now whaddya know…our hardcore Wallaby also have a sentimental side I see.. You better watch it…that kind of emotional gestures usually whistles up the stork” he pumped Carr’s emotions. Carr turned to him in make belief anger.” Now ye listen ‘ere mate…Ye better stop that kinda jabbering or a will sock ye one..” he bawled. Jim just grinned as he stretched his arms. “ Yea..Yea…I know. Will that now be before or after you concluded your trip to Heartbreak Hotel?” he mocked Carr again. Carr gave him the beady eye, and turned to Cane. “ ‘Scuse him mate. Where he came from there are no thanks giving parties…little bit o’ scruffy neighborhood he was raised in after adoption…but never the less…thanks again mate” he ended and turned towards the farmhouse to fetch his gear. “ No kissing…?” he heard Jim throwing a last jibe after him, but he ignored the man. He knew he would not hear the end of this for a long while. Cane looked up to the sun that now are burning ten types of hell out of them.” Well, I recon you two philanthropists better get going…otherwise you’ll have to overnight again…and I don’t remember any motels along the way you are going that will be comfortable for the likes of two entrepreneurs in your trade. With a wave of the hand he whisked his two young technicians away.

It was round about fourteen hundred hours when at last Carr threw the huge plane in a wide arc after take- off, and made a low pass over the airfield- dipping his wings and waving as they over flew Cane and the two mechanics. “ Now there goes two dumb-but very brave bastards” he mumbled as they waved back at the plane- now starting to ascend for higher altitude.” You think we will end up the same way they did uncle Cane?” - one of the youngsters questioned thoughtful, as the plane became a speck in the far horizon. Cane looked at the boy, and a sad expression came over his face.” Do I think it will end up the same way you ask? My boy, let me tell you- it has already started! It wouldn’t be long now. Nkomo and his gang of thugs already are being pushed into power… and there is absolutely monkey-shit old Ian Smith can do about it. It’s just a matter of time now. He is deemed expendable- …will receive his marching orders very soon I think…not long now I say.”

The boy eyed him questiongly. “ Pushed by whom uncle Cain?” The boy questioned with a low frown. Cane saw this and took his pipe from his overall pocket, lit it, and stared at the young one for a moment.. He took a few puffs and knocked the piped against his shoe, turning to the boy. “ My boy- let me ask you a few questions-and state a few facts- do you really think these local poor tribesmen who- for centuries lives a nomadic life in huts of stick and grass- traveling over hundreds of miles to seek game to kill with spears- never knew western style of governing- that rides on donkeys and tend to cattle- hunt and gathering roots and insects to eat- using clay pots and never invented a damn thing- that does not even knows the first thing about planting and harvesting crops- let alone the knowledge of money- knows how to fight the white man’s war…against superior mechanical machinery? Do you think they have the weapons, know- how, military structures, infra structure, organization skills, tacticians and money to do a stupid thing like that? Do you think they have the weapons and logistics to be able to engage in a full-scale war against the government of a country? No son-they don’t…. but the Jew boy- the big powers- they have! These poor gullible people are being pushed to start a war so that they can get the so-called” hot seats”. To them- it’s liberation- that is the Jew boy’s liberal propaganda slang by effectively using the power hungry media moguls- to stir up the emotions, to attack in masses. A few of the clan leaders are selected and lured into the Jew boy’s trap with “ Big” money and many promises-which in their poor miserable state-they gladly accept. They were taught new words like liberation, oppression, martyrism and what the hell else…words they never even knew in their own tongues. They were trained by these powerhouses to be so called governments -another system they were not used to. For centuries they refused to be ruled by other clans- now one superior clan rules the rest. For ages they tramped this earth without noticing the valuable riches in the ground- for ages they stared over the sea- not knowing what lies on the other side- until the Jew boy gave him a ship to travel. To them- this was a dream comes true in their Neantherthalic prehistoric minds- but to the warlords with the capitalistic enhanced view- it was just another little game in order to get dugged into yet another country’s riches. These despots quickly realized the value of Africa- so they started to educate the illiterate blacks in the western systems- pretending to be worried about the hunger and starvation in Africa. Why- one may ask- now all of a sudden the interest in Africa- while- for ages- the locals lived the same existence- and nobody complained? The answer- earlier explorers from Europe, Portugal and other modernized countries discovered the riches of the continent-with the knowledge that the locals could not resist them due to their illiteracy and gullibility.

They quickly learned that these people still lived in the stone ages- therefore they were open to ransacking- and reported just that back to their masters. Here was the point where the power houses were called in to play their demonic part in financing more expeditions- and so more and more so called explorers came to rape the continent- until the whole of Africa was sold out to these buggers. Now nothing belongs to the locals- and up to today- big petroleum and mineral companies own shares in Africa. The locals cannot fight back- they face extinction if the gods cut their medical and food lines. Their whole aim is to keep Africa poor- in need- transforming the once proud clans into eternal beggars- so that they can keep on supplying…supplying finished products back to the locals which was being stolen from them in the first place! Now they make the locals believe they need them- so they help them-and demanding payback for their favors to help new elected governments. While the white man rules- they know they do not stand a chance against common sense, because the white man are not so gullible- we will meet them on the same capitalistic level and terms. So- the solution- remove the white man with the power of greed. They pump thousands of dollars and weapons into this little African project- to them just pocket money- for many years they have been doing this, and when the black rebels eventually are forced into power- WHAM- they struck the new government! By that time the new rulers are so much in debt- their land pulverized-and food sources depleted- they’ll jump to anything the big boys want. Why do you think a government in Africa does not last long? The demigods play roulette with the continent in order to slash ever increasing deals-normally that would be mineral rights, landing rights, oil and so on. They just use these black governments as mere puppets- doing the dirty work so that the real natural killers don’t get their little office hands stained with blood.

They always keep in the back ground- never will share the blame- that’s their way of fighting the wars- not fighting- no- creating and harvesting, that is!. They will never eliminate the whole continent at once- no my boy- they orchestrate three or four countries at a time…that way they generate funds by supplying weaponry to all sides. When these poor creatures mesmerize each other- the warlords simply supply medical aid and food again..at a cost that is…supply and demand you know..And so it goes on and on. Those cats are clever- they are well trained in world manipulation- instigated from the pits of hell- from their masters- name them- The Bilderbergers, De Rothschilds, Oppenheimers, Netherland’s Royal House, Kennedy’s, Rockefellers and God knows who else. The real war is up there- the cannon fodder down here. They’ve been doing it all over the world for centuries- Burma, Vietnam, Ceylon, India, Africa, Hong Kong, now Kenya- and soon it’ll be our turn…All over the world- and it will go on until the last war of Armageddon son.. Where there is something to gain- they will be there- like hungry vultures on a rotten carcass, preying on the dead. Sadly, our danger will not come from up there, but from our neighboring country- South- Africa! Watch that slick minister of foreign affairs of them…that Pik Botha creature. He will be the one cavorting to sell us out. He is the tool the New Agers use to get the white man out. The irony is…he and his henchmen will eventually sell their own country to the communists for the same reason! All of them belong to the same clan- manipulated by the Jew. Now boy- who the hell are we? We are the cannon fodder they use to play their stinking hellish little game-chess you know- white against black.

Only black must win this round- otherwise their game would not work! To them it doesn’t matter- it doesn’t matter how many innocent people die- how many innocent lives they ruin and how many generations will suffer after their escapades. Nothing matters- except the glint of the dollar-the more wars-the more sales- the more killings- the more power for inhalation of peoples ground and resources! . The more body bags we see- the more dollars they make, but one-day- even they will stand before the true God, which they don’t believe in- and answer for their deeds. This is why I say those two are dumb, but brave- technically they are going to fight against those big cruel mindless powers. Loose-they will- gain they will not! Let’s just hope their lives will not be part of their loosing stakes” he ended. Having said all this, he turned around to go to his workshop and the Cessna engine, leaving the two boys standing there for a moment- soaking in the adult’s speech before they too set off to do their duties.

CHAPTER 30

Len slammed the gear lever of the Bedford truck back to 3^rd gear and released the clutch to force the exhaust to help slow down the truck for the oncoming bend as the vehicle rocked down the slope. Before him he saw the sharp u-bend closing in fast. “ Dammit you old fart- slow down…down…down..” he hissed as he worked the gears feverishly. The truck bucked, bounced and the engine howled as it was subjected to the strain of sudden impulses of high revolutions. It shook heavily every time Len forced it into a lower gear. With much effort he brought the old horse down to twenty miles an hour to safely engage the bend. He took the bend and thrashed the accelerator down to the floorboard as soon as he was out of the turn. The truck stammered and shot forward again. Len glanced in his side-mirror to see if the others made the treacherous u-bend in good order. The last thing they need now will be a truck careering through the bend into the tall grass, ending his flight with a broken axle! He saw the others coming through one by one with no hassle. As he looked forward again- something caught his eye in the grass to the right of him. He could swear he saw dark spots in between the yellow grass, but was not sure.

He peered into the maze- and then-yes-there he saw it again! In between the grass, like ticks on a cow- he saw them. Black figures huddled to the ground. He strained his eyes. There- more of them- it looks like a swarm of colorful locusts having a rest in the grass. The further he drove- the more they multiply.Len suddenly realized the consequences of the ominous dots in the grass! Masai warriors! He couldn’t understand it. They usually were hunters and a cattle tribe. Why would a normal peace loving tribe suddenly revert to war- and attacking white people? He found this very odd.

Len knew the Masai. They are pastoralists - people who lived off livestock and numadism - living in Kenya and Tanzania. They are egalitarian and resistant to dominance of political motivated leaders. In the past they dominated the grasslands of the Rift Valley, raiding their neighbors for cattle. Len could see they are Moran- or young warriors. They are very different from the Samburu warriors, who mainly are peaceful and are hunters. For this many warriors to work together as a group- something or someone must have triggered them. Normally they stay in a family group, roaming the grass plains in search for new areas for their cattle. He knew they do not originate from here. They must have trekked from the Garsen district across the Galana river- some 250 miles South East from where they are now. He estimated that they are about roughly a hundred miles North East of Nairobi- so, this is going to be a hard battle should they attack! Frank could now hear the sound of their ominous war chant, and he knew the term “ if” is no longer appropriate- it rather will be “ when”.

Quickly he slammed the accelerator down the floorboard and gunned the engine. The truck bounced and shot forward. He saw the warriors were not moving, then it struck him- they were aiming for a trap! Somewhere up in the front another party will be waiting. As soon as they reached that party, this party to his right would close the gap behind the trucks and they would be encircled from behind like the horns of a bull. Typically the local warrior’s method of hunting game- entrapment! Len stomped the brake pedal hard and brought the truck to a screeching halt, dust clouds erupting from under the tires. In a flash he screamed orders to his companion and grabbed the .303 rifle. As he flew out of the door- he yelled to the other occupants in the rest of the trucks to get out and make a stand. One after the other they stopped and the men jumped for their rifles. It was not a moment too soon, for the next second there was a blood-chilling cry as the party Len expected in front- charged with vigor to the trucks. Len could see spears being lunged into the air, bouncing off the hard surfaces of the trucks- and he shouted to the others to get down and seek refuge under the vehicles. Peter Aldridge came round one of the trucks with the Vickers 7.62 Machine Gun. Loose ammunition belts were flapping at his sides as he dived for a position next to Len. Around the other corner Baus also came running towards them with a couple of belts- and flogged himself next to Peter.” Here- Now you give them what for Pete..!” he gasped as he took to his own Mauser and started to load the gun, working the bolt to get a round in the breach. Len could hear the shots as some of the other trekkers started to cut loose on the oncoming warriors.” C’mon Pete… for shit’s sake- hurry up!!” he rushed his mate, and brought the rifle to his shoulder.

The next moment he nearly dropped it again out of sheer shock as Peter opened up with the heavy Vickers next to him. The sudden staccato slammed his eardrums shut. From under the belly of the truck- Peter hosed the front row of warriors from left to right- and back again. Len saw the bodies of soldiers crumbled under the sudden ferocious attack. “ That’s it Pete…shoot like hell!” he urged his friend and then he himself started to let fly with the lead, cocking the rifles bolt as if being meganized

Wasiri watched as his warriors attack. Most of them are young ones whose spears still have to taste blood in battle as yet. He watched Otanyo- and saw that the young one had fire in his eyes like that of a wild horse, watching every move on the battlefield. He could see the youngster was eager to win his spurs as well, but the fact that he’ll have to take the leadership if Wasiri would succumb in battle- kept him in check. With narrowed eyes Wasiri watched as his warriors tried with every ounce in their bodies to get close to the iron horses, but something underneath those horses made a huge noise, and he could see the invisible thing spitting smoke and flames out of it’s mouth, killing his braves like a huge cutter harvesting corn. He noticed how his warriors were repelled every time they got close to the iron horses. Time and time again they stormed the iron horses- but had to retreat in the midst of the thunder sticks- and that thing! Wasiri stood up to investigate what could it be that have such incredible magic power to destroy a well-motivated group of warriors. Suddenly he saw his warriors stopped fighting, turned their heads towards him in bewilderment- and turned tail, screaming and yelling! Even the warriors around him-including Otanyo- moved away from him as fast as they could. He was stunned. Do they fear him that much? He then realized that the invisible monster stopped spitting flames as well. An eerie silence hung between the smoke and chaos of the battlefield. Nobody moved. Everybody kept staring at him-even the white men.

The strangest of all was that there were expressions of fear in all of their faces. Wasiri could not understand this. Then a strange thing happened. All his warriors kneeled and bowed one by one to the ground and kept their faces down. Even the white men came out from their hiding places and just stood there as-if they saw a ghost. Wasiri was baffled. Slowly he started to move forward. “ WASIRI MTETWA OF THE KUKHUWANA!!!” The old man froze dead in his tracks. A voice of a thousand thunders boomed from behind him. Wasiri saw clouds gathering above him-and heard thunder flashes. His knees felt numb. Just now the sun was shining- now suddenly it was all cloudy-and that voice! Slowly he turned around to meet his caller’s eyes. As he turned around, the old man nearly puked as he saw his visitor. SEMPHELINGE! The god of the dead was standing in front of him, about five yards away- eyes spitting fire. Wasiri could smell the stench of death and sulphur surrounding the one that could not die. His grotesque figure towered about ten hands above the tallest warrior in his tribe. Huge was this god. He held that fearsome spear of his in his right hand- blade glinting. The copper bangles around his arms and feet glittered like fire. His eyes were dark red and Wasiri could feel the blackness of evil surrounding him. The sky was nearly covered in total darkness now.

The god slowly raised his right hand- and pointed that dreadful spear in his direction.” I’VE COME TO SEE WHAT THE OLD TRAITOR IS UP TO NOW!” the god boomed to Wasiri. “ DO YOU REALLY THINK ME- SEMPHELINGE- RULER OF THE DEAD - HAS THE HEAD OF AN UNBORN CHILD? DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU- WASIRI MTETWA- AN OLD MAN- COULD OUTWIT ME LIKE AN OLD WOMAN? DO YOU REALLY THINK BY SENDING THE SOUL OF KASIMATI TO THLOKOTSADI INSTEAD OF THE YOUNG GIRL I WANTED- WOULD SAVE YOU…OR THE SOULS OF YOUR WARRIORS? YOU THINK YOU HAVE TRICKED ME- ME- SEMPHELINGE- GOD OF THE DEAD? I TOLD YOU- I WALK THE EARTH A LONG TIME NOW, FOREVER COLLECTING THE SOULS OF THE DEAD. DID YOU THINK I WOULD MISS THE SOUL OF KASIMATI?. NOTHING YOU DO CAN BE HIDDEN FROM THE EYES OF SEMPHELINGE. I CAME HERE TO CLAIM YOUR SOUL FOR YOUR TREACHERY- THEN YOU CAN JOIN KASIMATE IN THLOKOTSADI. SEMPHELINGE NOW WILL COME AND TAKE YOU WHILE TATAMASE CAN EAT THE ROTTEN FLESH OF YOUR DEAD WARRIORS- AND I, SEMPHELINGE-WILL COLLECT THEIR SOULS TOO!”- He then uttered an ugly laugh. “ YOU WANTED TO TEST THE POWERS OF THE GOD OF THE DEAD- NOW YOU SHALL HAVE YOUR CHANCE! PREPARE TO DIE - YOU OLD FOOL!” the angry god spewed towards Wasiri. He furiously rammed the shaft of his spear hard on the ground, and fire and brimstone sparked in all directions. The old timer sank to the ground.

His legs could not hold him anymore. He lied on the ground where he fell- trembling with fear. He saw Semphelinge walk towards him, raising his big ugly weapon. The ground around him shook trembled. Wasiri closed his eyes and wait for the blow, he knew he has got no chance against this evil spirit from the netherworld. Instinctively he crouched with his hands protecting his face, but instead of receiving the awaited death blow-another voice echoed over the plains.” SEMPHELINGE -YOU WILL NOT TAKE THE SOUL OF WASIRI OF THE KUKUWANA!!” Wasiri opened his eyes, and looked behind him in fear. There- a distant away, he saw another huge warrior, dressed in lion skin and feathers. Also this one carried a huge spear-like the one of Semphelinge. His face was colorful in war paint- and also branded copper bangles around his arms and legs- as well as his neck and chest. Red fire danced around his feet. To his amazement, he saw a second small figure next to the god- one he knows well -Kgadi! Semphelinge lowered his spear and with hatred in his glowing eyes slowly turned to the newcomers. “ RAMIRAKE- PROTECTOR OF THE FIGHTING BRAVE WARRIORS-WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE TO MY PLACE? he roared.” .IS THE GOD OF THE WARRIORS NOT STRAYING FROM HIS WORLD….AND THE LITTLE ONE WHO CANNOT KEEP HIS TOUNGE…IS HE NOT PLAYING A DANGEROUS GAME COMING HERE TO TAUNT THE GOD OF THE DEAD? ” Semphelinge spat it to the other. Ramirake slammed his spear into the ground so that the sparks flew in all directions.” THE GROUND WE STAND ON BELONGS TO SEMPHELINGE- THAT IS SO - BUT I, RAMIRAKE- WILL PROTECT MY WARRIORS- AND IF THE GOD OF THE DEAD WERE SO WISE- HE WOULD HAVE NOTICED THAT THERE ARE FIGHTING WARRIORS ALL AROUND HIM…RAMIRAKE HAS NOT STRAYED AS THE GOD OF THE DEAD THINK- AND WASIRI ALSO IS MY WARRIOR! SEMPHELINGE WILL NOT HARM A HAIR OFF THE HEAD OF WASIRI MTETWA- OR HE WILL FEEL THE ANGER AND BLADE OF RAMIRAKE- PROTECTOR OF THE WARRIORS! I HAVE RECEIVE THE POWER FROM UDUKWA- KEEPER OF THLOKOTSADI- AS WELL AS HIS BLESSING TO GO TO WAR AGAINST SEMPHELINGE IF IT MUST BE TO SAVE THE SOUL OF WASIRI MTETWA OF THE KUKHUWANA! NOW-WILL SEMPHELINGE KINDLY STEP ASIDE BEFORE RAMIRAKE FORCE HIM TO DO SO?” A loud ugly laugh escaped from Semphelinge’s throat.” FIGHTING WARRIORS THE PROTECTOR SAY? IF THE PROTECTOR HAVE EYES, HE WOULD SEE THAT THERE IS NO FIGHTING WARRIORS- JUST DYING SCARED OLD WOMEN. THE BLEAK FACES ARE KILLING YOUR BRAVES LIKE A STORM SLICING THE STALK OF A CORN WITH THEIR THUNDER STICKS! WHERE ARE THE SO- CALLED BRAVE WARRIORS? SEMPHELINGE JUST SEE SCARED OLD WOMAN! Ramirake slowly started to move forward threatingly in huge strides. “ WILL THE GOD OF THE DEAD NOW STEP ASIDE - OR WILL THE WARRIORS NOW HAVE TO SEE A REAL BATTLE?”- the other commanded.

Kgadi shuffled forward and pointed his stick to Semphelinge.” Kgadi would rather not keep his tounge- than go around and collect the souls of the dead by treachery! It was not Wasiri that was the traitor- but you-you and your lies! You know you don’t need a woman-why now you suddenly need one? You speak with the tounge of Ikamata-the crow- and Mwentu- the snake. Yes- you are right- I sent my tounge to Udukwa- keeper of Thlokotsadi- and speak to him about your dark ways with Wasiri. He sent Ramirake with me to keep your hands in endless night. He awaits your presence at once! Lemisemphe will take you to him now- you evil one! Semphelinge snorted.” SEMPHELINGE KNOWS THE ROAD TO THLOKOTSADI. SEMPHELINGE DO NOT NEED A STUPID HERDSMAN OF GOATS TO LEAD HIM, BUT YOU- SEMPHELINGE WILL NOT FORGET YOU- YOU WILL NOT CROSS THE GOD OF THE DEAD ANYMORE- SEMPHELINGE WILL SEE TO THAT…AND RAMIRAKE…WE WILL SOON MEET AGAIN. UDUKWA WILL NOT ALWAYS BE THERE TO PROTECT YOU…AND WHEN THAT TIME COMES…I WILL DESTROY YOU! ” and with a sadistically hollow laugher he angrily retreated into a cloud of sulphur smoke and disappeared.

For a very long time there was absolute silence. Nobody made a move. Wasiri slowly looked around. The warriors were still huddling the ground in fear- he could see they were scared out of their wits. He looked to where the white men were. They too were stunned to silence, just standing there- not even making one single thunder stick talk. He felt nauseas. Slowly he staggered to his feet and looked around, trying to compile the events that just happened. He could not see Ramirake or Kgadi anymore- they too vanished in thin air. He eyed the battlefield. All over the bodies of his warriors were strewn in disarray. For a few moments he just stood there, gaining his composure- then shock and anger took hold of him. Shock because of the unnecessary slaughter of his people- young sons that was not even prepared for death- and anger because in their darkest hour of battle the gods, who sent them in the first instance- just neglected them!

Tears flooded in the old eyes. He started to wave his stick in wild vicious circles.” Back…my brave children…back! Let there be no more killing! Stand up! Let us go home and leave the gods to fight their own wars! Stand up my children- let us go home- let us take our fallen brothers and go home- enough of your brothers have died to day for the stupid gods!” he shouted and turned around to the white men. For a moment he inspected them with his eyes- then with a slow waving gesture to them- he set off to take the long road back to his kraal, a broken old warrior that now could not fully understand the fine balance between good and evil anymore.

Len and Peter stood side by side. To them it was like watching a sci-fi scene from a Hollywood movie. Neither of them realized what they just saw happening. The rest of the trekkers were flabbergasted as well. One moment they were fighting for their lives- the next they saw the attackers fleeing for their lives and two huge man-like creatures appearing as from no-where amidst smoke and thunder- bellowing at each other- disappearing again- then the attackers withdrew with what seems to be their headman waving good-buy to them. Everything happened a little too fast for the battle weary trekkers. Baus was the first to recover from his initial bewilderment. “ Now what the hell was that all about? That must have been the biggest human beings I’ve ever laid eyes on. Did you see that? They must have been all of ten feet tall!” Dave Marais , who was lying under the truck, slowly stood up and joined them.” Where the hell did that two pachyderms came from…. and that shortish little bugger?

Pete stared to the now empty sky.” Can somebody explain to me in plain English where the dickens the thunder and lightning has gone to?” For a long moment they stared questiongly to each other- each try to grope for solutions in their clouded minds. “Look- if it was only one of us that saw them- a person could have said it was fatigue-but my good lord-all of us saw them! What were they? Did you see that spears they carried around with them- their handles was about the thickness of a boom from an ox wagon!”- Baus replied and he tried to mimic the size with his hands. Pete looked to Niklaas de Beer.” Uncle Nick- I could have sworn I saw flames jumping from the ground every time one of them slammed that tree trunks into the ground- you noticed anything?” Old Niklaas stared at the ground, then to Pete. “ You saw that as well eh? I thought my eyes was playing tricks on me- figment of the imagination- but if you saw it too- then by Jove- I did see some sparks!” Len looked around. “ Where is Dr. Lowe? I haven’t seen him around!” The door of a truck further down the line swung open. “ Here I am…don’t worry-I’m still alive. Lawry as well- but I think you better come and listen to this” and he pointed to the other side of the cabin. The group walked around their truck to see what the old doctor was referring to. In the front of Dr.Lowe and Lawry’s truck was the driver of Carr Hardly’s bowser, sitting on the ground- too scared to move! They walked up to him. Len squatted next to the bewildered Swahili driver. In his native language he calmed the man- and then asked him what was wrong.

The driver looked bewildered-and keep on looking around. Len calmed him, and asked him again to tell them what was wrong. Stuttering the man started to explain what had happened- their tradition, the two gods, Kgadi- and their beliefs. He also told them what was said in the conversations that took place- and who Wasiri was. When at last he was finished- the men couldn’t believe what they just have heard. If it was somebody else-or someplace else- they would have seen this man as a kind of psychopath- or scytsophrenic- but all of them have seen the same drama played itself down right in front of them-and the driver’s story just collaborated what their eyes told them earlier! Dave whistled softly. “ You want to tell me we actually saw some real ghosts…in plain mid-day?” “ Spirits-not ghosts” Lawrey corrected him. “ Spirits..Ghosts..Dead guys…what ever- to me they are all the same. I didn’t know those type of things walked around in broad daylight- I thought you’ll find them at night- in some grave yard or spooky castle or something- not in the middle of a battle with bullets flying everywhere? What were they doing here anyways?” Baus took a deep breath. “ According to the driver the one closest to us and the shorty protected the chief” Niklaas frowned at Baus. “ Against us? Why- I saw a couple of hundreds of his troops to protect him” Baus shook his head. “ Nope- apparently against that other big fellow. He wanted to kill the chief for some unknown reason- and according to our driver friend here- this other two wanted to do battle with the ugly one…I can’t actually figure out what precisely was going on- this chappie is babbling too much to decipher who wanted to kill who- but it’s something to do with their different gods that did something in the past and it was time for revenge or something”

Dr.Lowe just shook his head as he stared to the horizon where the sun now is starting to set. “ I’ve seen some weird and some wonderful things in my seventy two odd years- but never anything like this. I don’t think you chaps must tell anybody else about this little episode- or you might end up certified! He commented and a wry smile crept around the corners of his mouth. “ Now what do you know- what a bloody day? I never thought in my life I would see a real genuine ghost- and not one - but three of them- quarreling by that as well! Now I’ve seen it all- I now can die in peace!” Dave chuckled and lit a cigarette. As they kept on figuring out what to do with their past adventure- night was creeping closer- and slowly spread her dark blanket across the veldt to bring a busy world to rest, leaving the group of weary trekkers to ponder about the day’s surprises..

CHAPTER 31

The blinding storm ravaged and raged over the hapless savannah, like only an angry African storm is empowered to do. Lightning bolts frolicked across the sky- their luminous arrows leaping and jolting across the heavenly amphitheater, transforming the dark earthly center stage for blinking moments into a terrifying bright arena of light-and the ominous clouds discarded heavy saturated raindrops that tortured and ravaged the fauna and flora far down below. Gusts of gale winds swept through the tall grass- one moment forcing them to a substantive horizontal state, just to whip them around in the opposite direction the next- robustly shaking them- like a huge rampallion playing with a rag doll.

Thunder erupted above in the clouds, and together with high electron loaded atoms, sent bolts of static electricity ripping through the night sky- whilst the abatjour lightened the inner sanctum of the huge dark cotton shaped Cumulus Numbus oceans, creating a luminiferous playing field for the multiple interluding auroras. The earth trembled in fear every time a shock wave struck terra firma. Small-frightened animals scurried for shelter in bushes and boroughs - while the bigger ones sought out thickets and flat trees to obscure themselves from the murderous elements. Inside their makeshift shelter John and Agnes huddled together in embracement for the little warmth their bodies could generate. John had at long last managed to get a fire going in order to heat their tinned rations- and for a bit of extra needed warmth. Bursts of icy prevailing winds swept through the openings in the walls of the shelter- trying to callously abate the flames of the little fire. John stacked their knap sacks around the flames to prevent it from being extinguished. Showers of water interloped through the cracks, creating little puddles along the sides of the shelter. The two were exhausted -homologating the fact that they can under no circumstances prevent nature from executing its natural duties, like it’s been doing for so many millenniums. Slowly and mercifully they sank into a tiresome dreamless sleep- whilst the nature erupted around them- reaching a crescendo in its cacophony of multiple audio visually synchronized displays.

Not far from the make shift structure- the prowler lurked. Pangs of hunger tortured his stomage, driving him nearly to the edge of kippage. His yellow piercing eyes scrutinized the shack for any visible signs of movement, but the murky cloak of darkness prevented his keen eyesight from piercing the waning bursts of luminosity created by the sporadic staccato of lightning. . Slowly his senses started to adhere to the impulses from the psychometric side of his primeval heritage. Driven and motivated by the age-old instinct for survival, his body succumbed to the driving urge to eat. He needed the protein to power his ailing strength- and not to become prey himself for the rampant rapscalioning dwellers of the night.

Very slowly, windswept and drenched- he stood up. Deep suppressed growls erupted from his throat. He calculated the distance between him and the man made shelter, and his hunting senses collaborated in synchronized perfection to zoom into one centrifugal motion- to transform his 220lb muscle laden carcass into a swift purposeful killing machine. His carnivorous mind generated all the strength from his tired body, commanding it to prepare itself for one final mad driven dash towards the shelter - and to attack with one last ferocious pinpoint precision. He lowered his huge head and descended his thorax into a coiled position-not diverting his piercing eyes for a moment from his target. For a fraction of a second he wavered- his beastly mind automatically by habitual instinct, starting to run the final deadly count-down- every muscle quivering tensely in preparation to bolster his body into action- then his primitive clock signaled the attack! The powerful adrenaline injection that was rushed into his veins sent his majestic frame forward like a projectile slung from a catapult. His massive front quarter plunged through the protective overlaying thickets, pollarding the smaller twigs like a huge cannonball. With huge powerful strides his hind paws dug deep into the soft earth- propelling him forward in an awful motion.

He mustered all his stamina-gaining momentum second by second, -coordinating his senses and motions faster and faster, until everything became a vivid blur around him- concentrating tunnel like on one vision- cutting through the bushes like a midnight express towards the target ahead of him. His surroundings, the storm, the darkness, and the hunger- everything had become oblivious to the hunter’s mind. He had one vision- one goal- and he excelled hurriedly towards it- quickening his pace with every ounce of strength he could consume from his speeding bulk. Chance was forced by him to present itself!

For John and Agnes the storm around them was something far away in the distance. They were totally unaware of the forces of nature that went rampart around the shelter. The day was too long and the hardship they had to endure -too much for their unaccustomed bodies. Too exhausted to eat properly-they had a quick bite- then searched for warmth in each other’s arms against the terrible cold. Nor John-nor Agnes had to say anything- they both knew they had to get some rest. They both expected the following day to be as terrible as the one they just had to endure. In Kenya- in times of turmoil like these- everyday presented it’s own set of hardships and surprises, totally different than the previous day.

John stirred in his sleep. Something had lifted his state of sleep from a deep level to a semi- conscious level. Something had disturbed him. He fiddled with his ear- and tried to resume his previous level of slumber, but a gnawing uneasiness hampered him, as though something-some sixth sense tried to warn him to wake up. Slowly he entered the realm in a rebellious state of mind. He was aware that he had to rest as much as possible- but he could feel the sleep was busy drifting away from his grasp. Stiffly he pushed himself in a very subtle manner to an upright sitting position- as not to disturb Agnes. She moaned softly- then nestled herself comfortable onto his chest. He yawned- and stretched his limbs.

Outside he could now hear the rain slashing into the little shelter. He could hear the wind robustly shaking the structure- and softly prayed that the hut would hold out against the onslaught. He looked around the hut- and thought about the previous day’s experiences, trying to figure out what was left for them to do. Where would they go? What are they going to do? Where would they get other passports? Which direction would be the best? He pondered about this. It was then that something warned him. He was not very sure- was it a crack of a branch outside- or a faint thumping noise? He could not tell for sure, but all of a sudden all his senses warned him something was terribly wrong! He softly- yet quickly- bends over and grabbed the knapsack nearest to him. He opened it and took out the pistol. Quickly he grabbed a box of ammunition and loaded the gun. He realized that people are on their most vulnerable at night- especially when it was raining like this. When finished- he held the gun, facing to the front. Should someone- or something tried to enter, he would have to walk straight into the muzzle of the weapon. He looked at his watch. It was twenty past three a.m- still about two hours before the sun would appear on the horizon-if the storm had outraged itself by then. He lied back against the wall of his protection and took a deep breath.

John was not sure what precisely happened next. For the rest of his life he would ponder about that- never be able to really figure out what type of drama he missed- and that would torture him for the rest of his human existence. As he relaxed against the wall of the shelter, he heard a definite thumping sound outside. He jerked upright, but already it was too late! The only thing he could remember seeing, was the one side of the shelter being smashed to pieces by an unknown dark intruder, as if being struck by a sledgehammer. The next moment he was thrown aback with such a force, that he flew right out of the shelter- somersaulting backwards - and landed with a sickening crack direct on the back of his head with the one side of the shelter on top of him. His gun was knocked totally out of reach by the unexpected attacker. The last thing his scrambled senses could remember,- was hearing the blood chilling scream of Agnes cutting like a knife through the thunder- then all went quiet as the darkness engulfed his tortured mind- leaving him lying unconscious in the storming rain.

CHAPTER 32

It was a little after 11h00 when the old Dominique was steaming her way out of the oldest dry-dock which was constructed in 1495. As she left the Peninsula of Portsea Island in the direction of the Isle of Wight- she passed the continental ferry port part of the harbor-past the exhibited warships- The Tudor Warship Mary Rose and Admiral Horatio Nelson’s flagship Victory- into the narrow entrance towards the four-mile basin in the direction of Gosport. It passed some of the buildings that was bombed in the Second World War because of it’s military strategic importance- following the same route that hundreds of ships might have followed during that fateful D-Day embarkation exercise in 1945. Portsmouth was 73 miles South-West of London, and was already a port in the days of King Alfred- but it was Richard 1 that changed it into the hustle and bustle that the old steamer was passing now.

David was at last introduced to his “coal pusher “mate for the trip- Tommy Cargoolie- a fattish plump little Irishman with carrot red hair around his bald forehead, branding an old worn cap. He was a fairly bulky fellow with short strong fore arms- the sort of creature that you would expect to find in some sleazy pub in the shady side of the Gorbals. David could see that the little man was by no means a push over, irrespective of his pint - size appearance. It was obvious to David that those arms and hands did a good turn of stoking in their lifetime, and should the occasion present itself- be able to do more than just standing their ground. Shamus - in the mean time, had left the two shipmates to get acquainted with each other. For a short moment neither one of them knew how to open the conversation. It was Tommy that decided to break the ice. “ Oi mate…they told me ye were the new stoker boy…that right?” he gasped between the shovels of black rock he was busy pumping into the open furnace of the boilers.

David could hardly hear the small man, but had an idea what he was saying. He stood closer to Tommy.” That’s who I am…. sorry- may I present myself- David Bascombe…please to meet your acquaintance Tommy” - and he offered his hand to the other. The little stoker paused for a moment, wiped the sweat from his forehead- and offered a very dirty right hand in return. “ Oi…ye talking the Queen’s lingo matey…’ard to understand sometimes…canna hear them words…all the same ‘ere”. He grabbed David’s hand in an iron tight grip, which nearly made David howl in agony as he felt his hand being crushed by the vice-grip that clammed around it. He was right- this little guy would in many ways be able to give reckoning of himself in a skirmish any day! He had to bite real hard on his lip to prevent the tears emerging from his eyes.” Sorry…I…I will get used to your way of talking and try to adapt” he stuttered between the pangs of his aching ligament. Tommy lit a cigarette, slammed the boiler door in front of the furnace shut- and offered David one. David kindly refused the offer as he saw the state the self-made cigarette was in. “ No thanks…. never got to get started with that type of habit as yet…but please- enjoy yours” he politely denied the outstretched peace offer whilst cleaning his bruised hand with his handkerchief.

Tommy smiled and returned the cigarette to his pocket. “ Na t’ worry matey…not ev’ry body is perfect….’eard d’ boss said ye were a big shot’s boy…that right?” he enquired as he puffed huge clouds of white smoke into the air. David was a little surprised at the speed that gossip could decent from the bridge to the boilers in such a short time. He just lowered his head and did not answer. Tommy just grinned. He could see that David felt awkward about this line of questioning.”Oi-‘ts allwright mate- roundabouts ‘ere we don’ care who the shit is coming from where- ‘ad some real bad types coming aboard these past months- real mean types- like that one fella who stabbed another guy in the neck with a chisel- laddie by the name of Carrington or something like that- papers called him the Fiend o’ the Gorbals-I tell you- a flaming chisel! ‘Eard he was later hanged at Barlinnie goal…a real piece of handywork ‘e was that one..shortish like me..but mighty moody an’ sour…never talked much.’E worked as a swabbie for a couple o’ days- right ‘ere…a damn murderer running away from the coppers right under our noses! By the way- where ye coming from? ‘Eard ye came from the mainland? David smiled. The way the hotlines were functioning around this old tub, he expected the little Irishman to start questioning him about his latest orgies with Vicci as well! “ Leicester- near Nottingham- my old man have some land there” he replied cautiously. Tommy eyed him shrewdly. “ Oi- I know where Leicester is …worked in a clothing factory in Coventry once- close to your place….I suppose you went to Oxford university as well mate…you look the royal type?”

David smiled and shook his head.” You seem mighty inquisitive for a stoker…forget who I am and where I was…tell me about my new assignment here” he replied smilingly and stood closer to the boilers to show the little guy that it was time to change the topic. The little man laughed and patted David on the back. “ Oi…I see I touched a nerve there…that’s o.k…if you ever need a bit o’ muscle power around ‘ere- just call on me ye know…an’ I’ll give anybody who mess around with you what for ey?” he assured David and then turned to the two huge boilers. “This one ‘ere on the left are Mavis- ..good ol’ dame she is- never gave so much as a moment’s trouble- an’ this one ‘ere are Betty- the most troublesome ol’ bloody piece o’ scrap iron ye c’n think of- full o’ monkey shit she is- havta clean the ol’ bitch in every port otherwise the damn ol’ bugger’s pipes refuse to let out enough compression for this ‘ere floating bathtub .Ye must check ‘em valves regularly- or ye might blow the boilers if too much steam builds up an’ not enough gets released- ‘ere- ye must stoke every half an hour ‘ bout forty shovels in each of ‘em to keep the steam up.” Tommy started to explain the finer details of the work ahead. David stared at the two huge canisters with an expression of disgust on his face. Tommy eyed him thoughtfully. “ Look mate- ah know this ‘ere is blimey ‘ard grafting…it breaks ye back sometimes…a rotten way to earn a living…but ye only hav’ t’ do it ‘till we dock- then ye’re off…me- ah guess this is ma life…dirty boilers an’ stinking hoars in every port. Ma folks never were rich…could na go to a good school…canna even read or write…so…this was the only job ah could do to help me pappa an’ mamma keep the pot cooking…’ad seven other brothers an’ sisters to feed…mamma ‘ad a job during the war- but lost ‘er one leg in a blooming Jerry raid at Aldershot- so, it was left up to me an’ the old man to support the rest.” he explained with a quivering tone in his voice.

David felt sorry for the small stoker. “ And if I may ask- what happened to your parents…they still alive?” he pumped the other to pour his heart out. Tommy took out something that looked like a cross between a handkerchief and an oilcloth to wipe his face. “ Naah…me old lady died o’ gangrene couple o’ months ago…the old man…yea-he’s still kicking- but the death o’ ma olde lady hit the old man like a sledgehammer- screwed ‘im totally…became a zombie-type ye know…blowing all his money in booze an’ gambling ever since. No care anymore…lost all ‘is dignity ah s’pose. So- the welfare came an’ took the young ‘uns- said the old man canna look after them squealers anymore- so that left me an’ ma older sister alone to scrape our own barrels o’ shit- an’ ‘ere ah am- stoking coals into a sinking shit bucket- but at least ah eat an’ sleep- an ‘though the company doesn’t pay that good- ‘least ah earn something ‘till ah c’n get a better job to go get the young ‘uns from the government trenches” he ended his sad tale. David shook his head. “ And your sister…where is she?” Tommy laughed with a cynical tone. “ Ma sis..o yea..she..” and he giggled some more. “She became one o’ those stinking hoars …roaming the streets o’ Londen’s red White Chapel district...Y'know where that looney Ripper guy whacked 'em hoars in those early days - screwing the rich ta feed the damn poor..also too bloody stupid to do something better ah s’pose..” he exclaimed and closed the lid of the boiler in front of him. He sat down on a oil can, taking another cigarette from his oil stained pocket.” We c’n rest a bit- these ‘ere coals will burn for another ‘alf an hour…so…now ye know me sad song…what ‘bouts you. Why you ‘ere?” he questioned David in turn.

David sat down on a makeshift wooden stool that Tommy offered him. “ Me? Well…let us say I changed my boring life in good old England for a bit more adventures future in Africa…want to get a bit of freedom from the every day routine and stiff upper lips where I came from.” He replied as he stretched his legs. Tommy gave him a puzzled look.” Ye off ye rocker mate? Ah’ve heard some real stupid reasons for leaving something o’ the other in my life…but this one cops the cake! ‘Ere ah am- trying to scrape meself to that pot o’ gold- an’ ‘ere ye are…blooming will running away from it…ain’t life bloody funny eh?” David stared at some embers that dropped from the furnace.” Money and riches are not everything Tom…sometimes it cannot buy happiness and freedom…I want to enjoy my young life…preferably my way…until I am ready to take on life’s more boring challenges. Money is good in some scenarios- but it have the tendency to rule your life at some stage…like an evil maelstrom - sucking you deeper and deeper…then you become another type of one of those zombies you talked about.” He replied thoughtfully. Tommy just sat there, ripping pieces of cigarette paper apart. “Yea..mebbe ye’re right…the way ah see it…money mebbe can’t buy all those things ye mention- but it ma case…it c’n sure as hell help with the down payment of some debts ah have” he replied sulking, and with that he snuffed a half jack of Irish Potato whiskey from his belt, unscrewed it- and took a mighty good swig. “’Ere- ah s’ppose ye dunna gurgle as well eh?” and he offered the bottle to David.

David sat for a moment. “O heck- what the hell-…” and he swung the bottle to his mouth and gulped. The next moment he jumped up and started to slam his chest with his right fist- gasping for fresh air. “ What…what the dickens in the name of heaven do you call this…it’s pure paraffin…dammit!” he stuttered between the vicious coughs that erupted from his lungs. Tommy found this truly hilarious- and roared with laughter. “ ‘Ere mate- that’s a man’s brew…ah see ye haven’t had a real kicker in ye life before…that’s real Irish whiskey mate- brewed an’ bottled in good ol’Ireland” he gloated at the other’s misery. David recovered somewhat of his ordeal and wiped the saliva from his mouth. “ Yes- I suppose it’s a good thing God gave man the knowledge to invent whiskey- to prevent you Irish from ruling the world” he retorted. He sat down, still panting- and they chatted some more until at last Tommy holstered the bottle and stood up. “ Ye’re young…but ye’ll learn…ye’ll learn….c’mon…time t’ stoke these bastards again..” and with that he handed David a shovel to start his first time ever hard labor on the ship.

CHAPTER 33

Carr pushed the throttles of the old plane to “Full” as the banked away from Cane’s makeshift airfield, turning the creaking old lady in a Northeasterly direction. Steadily he pulled the yoke backwards to ascend gradually as not to put too much strain on the heavily laden aircraft’s wings. The engines were complaining bitterly as more power was suddenly requested from them- and the airplane bouncingly started to ride the oncoming currents to higher altitude, leaving the airfield to merge with the green landscape far below them. At 10 000 feet Carr leveled her out and set the throttles to medium power to ease the workload on the engines and save fuel. Jim was chewing on a piece of biltong as he gazed down at the passing landscape, wondering what awaits them on their return journey ahead. The sun gleamed into the cockpit from the east direct in front of them, blinding him somewhat. Carr had so far not uttered a word- himself deep into his thoughts of the dark road ahead.

Up here it was so peaceful- totally untouched by the turmoil of man’s ever continuing wars far down on the flat landscape. Carr set course for their first lap and took out a cigarette, lit it and inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs. Slowly he exhaled and turned to Jim. “Waal mate..this is it then…we are going back home…where the hell ever that is going to be now...you O.K?” he tried to wake Jim from his thoughts. Jim sighed and sat up straight. “ Home?..Yea right…don’t worry..I’m O.K. Strange…this life of ours…I never thought I would be flying in an airplane back to Kenya a damn second time to fight a blooming war that factually has got nothing to do with me at this point of time…I should have been at home doing my thing right now…stickin’ to my own business of making money…o hell…what a mess…. how the hell do a normal person get into situations like this?” he replied, shaking his head. Carr watched him for a moment. “ Feeling homesick already bush boy? Ah s’ppose ye wished ye got off with the others at Beitbridge eh?” Jim just stared straight into the clouds ahead of him. “ Yea…the thought crossed my mind..”

Carr watched him closely.” An’ what part o’ ye psychometric system forced ya t’ stay?” he asked with a smile. Jim merely shrugged. “ I dunno…. can’t explain myself…I musta been mad getting back on this ‘ere junk heap..maybe I wasn’t thinking at that moment when chance presented itself…or maybe I couldn’t get it over myself to break my promise thinking o’ you fighting it out by yourself…dunno..” he answered and put his hands behind his head in a relaxing manner. Carr soaked this in for a moment. “ O.K …ah c’n except that…tell me ….if ah may be so blunt t’ ask…ye married…children..Someone back there…ye know…” he enquired further as he flicked the now cigarette butt out of the side window. Jim turned to him half way. “ Now you are getting mighty inquisitive…you my priest or what…no…I’m not married…only have a woman friend I visit now and then…kids…one…but she’s staying with my” ex”…been divorced for eight years now…living on my own…and no...I do not intend to change that status soon…. satisfied now?” he ended his story. Carr just smiled. “ Sorry mate…no harm intended…tell me …where did you learn to fight with that stuff in ye bag…done some of those Chinese chop sue stuff or what? Ah saw ye c’n help ye’self a plenty?” he turned the conversation.

Jim nodded. “ Yea…I did some chop sue for a couple of years in Japan…had my own Dojo in the states before I started my own export company” Carr narrowed his eyes.” Ye own what..?” “ Dojo….a place where you practice chop sue… you know…I taught others the game..” Carr’s eyes now widened.” No shit! Ye mean ye are an expert in the slicing fish business…ah mean ye c’n whack a Sushi good n’ solid..like in the movies…smackin’ an’ kickin’ like those fellas ?Now whadda ye know…an’ all the time ah took ye fer a bloomin’ nice guy…what a surprise…shit!” he said and whistled softly through his teeth. Jim shrugged again.” Yea well…like I said…life’s full of surprises, and nice guys ain’t that stupid to return back for more trouble a second time..” Carr tapped him on the arm. “ Talking o’ surprises…ah think we gonna get one mighty soon…look…. thunderstorm ahead…an’ ah dunna recon we gonna out fly this one…too fast approaching…better go an’ fasten those loose stuff in the back…ba th’ look o’ it…we’re in for quite a bumpy banger this time..” he exclaimed and pointed to some dark and heavy luminous clouds that suddenly appeared from nowhere in front of them.

Jim stared to the new approaching menace in awe. “ Can’t you fly over it …or around it..or something?” he quickly retorted. Carr shook his head. “No mate…not this one…ye see…it’s a damn anvil…shooting straight up fer ‘bout another twenty thousand meters…this old bird will never reach that ceiling…around it …not most likely…they’re moving in at ‘bout eighty knots east t’ west..Straight across our flight path…lots of up draught that will shake this bird like a terrier playing with a rag…too big a tail as well..East an’ west…no chance…under them…too low…that wind will slam us straight into the trees…no mate…we’ll havta fight this one…an’ it’s a big fucker by the looks of it..!” he half shouted as he strapped his safety harness on. Jim just dropped his head in dismay and covered his face with his hands for a moment. For a few seconds he sat like that…trying to absorb yet another darkness on their way…as if they haven’t endured enough this far, and they have not even started their real mission yet! He opened his eyes and stared at the clouds again. Slowly he rose out of his seat and stumbled to the back to unwillingly fasten some of the loose stuff. Carr watched him and shook his head. “ Poor bastard…feel sorry fa the chap..” he mumbled to himself and turned back to concentrate on the new menace ahead.

The strong wind slammed into the aircraft from the port side with such a murderous blow that Carr was totally been caught off guard . He lost control of the aircraft as the sudden jerk snapped the control column out of his hands- slamming it forward. The big plane tumbled sideways in a direct nosedive. The force of the wind nearly flipped the plane on her back Carr recovered from his initial shock and grabbed the controls with both hands, fighting gravity with all his strength, pulling the column backwards.”Damn you…ye ol’ bastard…damn you…c’mon…c’mon…up ye go…up…up…HEY…BUSHBOY…GET YE DAMN LOUSY ARSE UP ‘ERE AN’ COME AN’ HELP ME FIGHT THIS DAMN STORM YE LAZY WHACO!!!” he bawled across his shoulder to the interior of the craft. Jim was having his own battle trying to stay upright in a very unsteady environment when he heard Carr’s frantic cry. He mustered all his strength and propelled himself forward into the cockpit, staggering sideways into the seat. Still bewildered- he got hold of the steering column somehow and together with Carr, started to pull like hell to get the craft’s nose in a horizontal position.

Carr slammed the throttles forward in full revolutions to help the plane grapple her way upward back into the sky. He glanced sideways to Jim. “ Mate…now ye must only pull an’ pray…it’s now or never…PULLLL!!!” he yelled and threw his whole weight backwards,- straining every muscle in his powerful body to force the yoke backwards. He caught Jim’s silhouette besides him- shaking heavily as he struggles to move his column inch by inch towards his stomach. They could hear the twin engines screaming like tortured pigs as they were forced to produce every ounce of power they could generate against heavily laden odds. For a moment it seemed as if the battle was lost. The altimeter’s dials went berserk as it counted the height down as they loose precious height. The craft shuddered, coughed, shuddered again- drifting sideways to the left. Jim felt his stomach turning into a knot…his legs into jelly as he thought of the terrible consequences if they were not to pull this one off. The thought of going out of the present into eternity- flattened across the bushveld in a million pieces really iced his arse He clenched his teeth together and nearly broke the stick as he kicked against the dash board- throwing his whole weight backwards- nearly arching over the back seat like a trained gymnast. Saliva spat out of his mouth, his face tortured in tension- turning red with sweat streaming from his forehead as the mounting fear suppressed all other feelings. Suddenly the craft jerked up like an arrow as it caught an up rise with the nose-nearly making a 90-degree left upward roll. The artificial horizon on the dash seemed to make a full rotation by the sudden change in height.” SHIT…NOW THE BITCH IS GOING FOR A FLAMIN’ BACKWARD LOOP…DOWN…DOWN…DOWN.. PUSH!!!”

Carr screamed hysterically. Again the two men started to fight the current…in reverse. The plane alarmingly bucked backwards, skidded to the right- and bounced back forward to yet another nosedive. Carr was using all the hidden swearwords in his dictionary at once. Again they fought to gain height. The strong turbulence played havoc with the aircraft- tossing and turning it at will. Like a dinky toy the plane roller coasted through the stormy clouds, hammered by the full force of sporadic tailwinds. Suddenly the plane started to sway left to right…and back again, her wings dipping dangerously. Lightning pounced onto her- sending huge raindrops smashing onto the windscreen. Carr and Jim battled the beleaguered aircraft this way- then that way. Up and down she goes- riding the ever-changing currents with bumpy motions. Huge drops of rain banged with a ferocity against the windscreen. Lightning bolts flashed all around the hapless plane. They were caught slap-bang in the middle of the enormous electrical storm with no-where to go. After what felt like an eternity, Carr and Jim somehow got control of their height- but had the next half an hour or so for themselves to fight the ever-lasting yaw to keep her straight. Jim now got the hang of it, and he and Carr worked as one under the continuous “Steady…steady…down..down..left..steady..” voice of Carr. As sudden as it began, in a wink of an eye , it was all over- everything became silent. The sky ahead was clear. The only noise was the two engines that still ran on full revolutions and the thunder that still raged behind them. For a moment the two men sat frozen in their positions- expecting another whiplash from the rain god, but there was none. Slowly they relaxed.

Jim released the column and slumped back into his seat- his body shaking like a leaf. Carr nervously tried to light a cigarette that refused to give up its chilly behavior. When at long last he got to the part where he could steady his lips enough to light the object, he shakily switched on the autopilot and reverses the throttles to the mid section.” Hell…we nearly copped a whopper back yonder eh mate?” he nervously forced the words out of his lips. Jim just sat there- trying to calm his shaking nerves.” Ah’ve bin flying fa years na…an’ ah’ll tell ye this much…ah never ‘ad a bumper like that one before…jeez…we almost got whacked on de bloody mountains…flew right in the eye o’ the damn bastard…whadda ye know.. Damn bad luck..!” Carr went on babbling to ease the tension in his body. Jim slowly turned to Carr....his body drained from all energy ” Aussie…if you ever..EVER try a stunt like that again…I’m gonna wring your damn scrawny Wallaby neck right off your useless body and kick your arse right into Brisbane harbor…got that?” Carr just chuckled. “ If ah try a stunt like that again..ye better hope it works again…otherwise there wouldn’t be much left o’ ye t’ kick ma arse into any ‘arbor mate..an’ by th’ way- ye said earlier that ye wonder if this ol’ bird will be a stunt plane next…still wondering?” he retorted jittery with a smile.

CHAPTER 34

The dark clouds still hung low over the African subtropical landscape as the sun appeared gingerly from the western hemisphere over the bleak lit escarpment. Little gusts of wind still snaked through the tall grass- rendering a silent warning that the tropical storm was not over as yet- and could erupt at any given moment. In a muddy puddle- a dirty figure slowly started to show some signs of life. For a moment it remains motionless- then slowly it forced itself into a vertical position. Through the pangs of pain and drowsiness John staggered into a standing position. His whole body was bruised, his senses in a turmoil. He vaguely could remember the previous night’s terrible ordeal. His head was throbbing where it struck the boulder when he was knocked senseless by the unknown beast that rammed their hut. He stood there for a moment-still dazed and confused Suddenly it came to him…AGNES!

All pain forgotten- he ran to where their shelter used to be.” AGNES….AGNES…FOR GOD’S SAKE…ANSWER ME….WHERE ARE YOU..? “ he shouted. Feverishly he plunged into the long grass, wiping them aside as he searched for his companion- but to no avail. The only sound he could hear was the rustling of the grass as the wind preceded it’s mocking dance on their tops. He wildly ran up and down the vicinity of their now shattered hut- clambered on an ant hill to see better- then into a tree, but Agnes was no where to be seen! He sat on a branch- scanning the area around him, but the movement of the wind across the savannah obscured his vision so much that it was useless trying to look for any object from his position up there. Hastily he clambered down and decided to start searching in circles around the camping site in ever increasing radiuses- maybe he would find a trace of some sort that could lead him to the whereabouts of her.

John wiped the sweat from his forehead as he started to stumble in circles. The sun was trying to make its presence felt through the thick layer of rain-laden clouds- steadily warming the earth down below through the gaps. Around and around John searched, for hour after hour, until he was so exhausted that he could no more. Tiresome- he slumped to the ground in a bundle and just lied there, gasping for air. His feet hurt, his muscles riveted with cramps. Eventually his senses were lost and he succumbed into a merciful sleep. He did not know for how long he rested- whether he fell into a stupor or not- but the next moment he was wakened by a figure standing about ten yards away from him to his left. Through the haze of his tired mind he sat up. He battled to clear his mind from the red fogginess that obliterated his mind and vision.

Eventually his eyes started to focus enough to recognize the figure of Agnes, looking at him in a perplexed way of sadness- her hair moving in ritms as the wind moved through them. She just stood there- arms hanging next to her sides. He blinked his eyes. “ AGNES…where have you been…I have been searching all over for you…what happened..?” he stuttered as he battled to get to his feet. Agnes remained silent. John looked at her- then it struck him. As she stood there- he could see no marks on her clothes- no blood- no nothing. He could observe no signs of any wounds or torned clothing, yet he vaguely could remember her terrible scream of the night before he passed out. Slowly he walked up to her. “ Good Lord. Are you lucky or what…you came off quite unscathed from our ordeal…look at me…I look like I have been through a meat grinder” he laughingly kept on babbling. He was about to walk up to her when she suddenly, without a word, made a gesture for him to follow, turned around and walked towards a low tree with overhanging branches which was about fifty yards away. She was moving quite fast and stopped with intervals…waiting for John to catch up. He wasn’t sure, but it looked to him as if she was in fact gliding through the grass- but he was so confused that he could have imagined anything. Like a lamb following his master, he followed her towards the direction she directed. As John approached the tree- Agnes silently drifted aside… up to then not uttering one single sound. John walked up to her. Slowly- the phantom raised her left hand- and in a silent gesture- pointed in the direction of the shrubbery. John found the whole encounter chillingly odd.

He curiously peeped under the branches of the low tree- and reeled back in horror. There…under the tree…he could clearly recognize the torned pieces of a human body…and the remains of pieces from garments Agnes wore! He became dizzy- and felt nauseas. He could see the naked mauled torso been ripped apart....the bones stripped from it's flesh. A bare bloody skeleton stared with hollow eyes into nothing. All around the remainder of the skeleton was a huge pool of blood. It was smeared on the grass, the bushes…on the ground…and pieces of half eaten bones and flesh was strewn in a wide area. John spin around- just to realize the figure was gone! He then realized- Agnes must have been killed by the monster. or beast…it looked like the work of a lion. and she came back from the netherworld to guide him to her remains!!

John sank to his knees…raw cries escaping from his tormented soul. He sat there, he’s mind in a turmoil- his eyes dazed. The whole world collapsed around his numb body. His senses grappled for a reason as to why this had to happen. He felled to the ground on his face and started to cry…a raw cry that shook his body and soul. to pieces. So much was the internal pain and agony that he stayed in that position for a time of near eternity. Around him nature came to life…the new morning began as it did for so many a eon…as if nothing had happened. He did not even notice the sun as it broke through the dense cloud couver to greet the new day- nor the antelopes that came out of their places of shelter to graze. His entire existence as human being came to a stand still at that precise moment. So he sat in that fetal position- a man without a reason…the inside of his heart just an empty space…the cries echoed against the walls of his now abandoned heart.

The sun was piercing the sky on his way to the western horizon when at long last he slowly came to reality- his face now contorted with anger. Slowly he stood up with a dark cloud around his mind. Peace had made place for bitterness- love for revenge. Like a mindless Zombie he slowly rose to his feet and searched for a sharp piece of wood to start digging a shallow grave to bury her remains. It was at that moment that his wretched soul became as black and dark as the night itself. When at last he had carefully collected and buried the pieces of human he once loved and had learned to adore- he then knew that he not only had laid to rest the body of Agnes- his beloved, the ever happy and helpful catholic nun- but also the soul of a man once called “Monsignor John McNally”- the caring priest! As he turned away from her last resting place, a new being walked away from that grave- a stranger with a gaze, as cold as ice- on a deadly mission- a walking time bomb…John the avenger!

GRIM REAPERS

FROM THE PEN OF CHANDELIER

Saturday, October 2, 2010

THE FORGOTTEN PARADOX ( THE UNTOLD VERSION)