He knew that he was out there, the hunter.
Anti-tracking, he told himself, knowing that it would slow his progress, but it would almost certainly throw off his real or imaginary pursuer, unless he was very good indeed, or unless Daniel's anti-tracking skills had atrophied.
At the next river-crossing he took to the water, and from then on he used every ruse and subterfuge to cover his tracks and throw off the pursuit.
Every mile he grew slower and weaker. The diarrhea never let up, his wound was beginning to stink, and he knew with clairvoyant certainty that the unseen hunter was still after him, and drawing closer every hour.
Over the years Chetti Singh, the master poacher, had developed various systems of contacting his hunters. In some areas it was easier than others.
In Zambia or Mozambique he had only to drive out to a remote village and talk to a wife or brother, and rely on them to pass the message.
In Botswana or Zimbabwe he could even rely on the local postal authority to deliver a letter or telegram, but contacting a wild pygmy in the Ubomo rain forest was the most uncertain and time-consuming of all.
The only way to do it was to drive down the main highway and stop at every duka or trading-store, to accost every halftame Bambuti that he met upon the roadside and bribe them to get a message to Pirri in the forest.
It was amazing how the wild pygmies maintained a network of communication over those vast and secret areas of the rain forest, but then they were garrulous and sociable people.
A honey-seeker from one tribe would meet a woman from another tribe who was gathering medicine plants far from her camp, and the word would be passed on, shouted from a forested hilltop in a high penetrating sing-song to another wanderer across the valley, or carried by canoe, along the big rivers, until at last it reached the man for whom it was intended. Sometimes it took weeks, sometimes, if the sender was fortunate, it might take only a few days.
This time Chetti Singh was extremely lucky. Two days after he had given the message to a straggling group of pygmy women at one of the river crossings, Pirri came to the rendezvous in the forest. As always he appeared with the dramatic suddenness of a forest sprite and asked for tobacco and gifts. Have you killed my elephant? Chetti Singh asked pointedly, and Pirri picked his nose and scratched himself between the legs with embarrassment. If you had not sent for me, the elephant would by now be dead. But he is not dead, Chetti Singh pointed out. And thus you have not earned those marvelous gifts I promised you. Just a little tobacco? Pirri pleaded. For I am your faithful slave, and my heart is full of love for you. just a small handful of tobacco? Chetti Singh gave him half what he asked for and while Pirri squatted down to suck and enjoy it, he went on, All I have promised you, I will give you that much again if you kill another creature for me, and bring me its head. What creature is this?
Pirri asked guardedly, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Is it another elephant? No, said Chetti Singh. It is a man. You want me to kill a man! Pirri stood up with alarm. if I do that the wazungu will come and take me and put a rope around my neck. No, said Chetti Singh.
The wazungu will reward you as richly as I will. And be turned to Captain Kajo. Is that not so? It is so, Kajo confirmed. The man we wish you to kill is a white man. He is an evil man who has escaped into the forest.
We, the men of the government, will reward you for hunting him.
Pirri looked at Kajo, at his uniform and gun and dark glasses and knew he was a powerful government wazungu, so he thought about it carefully.
He had killed white wazungu before in the Zaire war when he was a young man. The government had paid him for it then and it had been easy. The white wazungu were stupid and clumsy in the forest. They were easy to follow and easy to kill. They never even knew he was there until they were dead.
How much tobacco? he asked. From me, as much tobacco as you can carry, said Chetti Singh. From me also, as much tobacco as you can carry, said Captain Kajo. Where will I find him? asked Pirri, and Chetti Singh told him where to begin his search, and where he thought the man was heading.
You want only his head? Pirri asked. To eat? No.
Chetti Singh was not offended. So that I know you have killed the right man. First I will bring you this man's head, said Pirri happily.
Then I will bring you the teeth of the elephant and I will have more tobacco than any man in the world. And like a little brown ghost he disappeared into the forest.
In the early morning, before the heat built up, Kelly Kinnear was working in the Gondola clinic. She had more patients than usual, most of them suffering from in tious tropical yaws, those great suppurating ulcers that would eat down to the bone unless they were treated.
Others were malarial or had swollen eyes running with flyborne or hthalmia. There were also two new cases of AIDS. She didn't need blood slides to recognize the symptoms, the swelling of the lymph glands and the thick white thrush that coated their tongues and throats like cream cheese.
She consulted Victor Omeru and he agreed that they should try the new treatment on them, the herbal extract of the selepi tree bark that was looking so promising. He helped her prepare the dose. The amount was necessarily an arbitrary decision, and they were discussing it when there was a sudden commotion outside the clinic front door.
Victor glanced out of the window and smiled. Your little friends have arrived, he told Kelly, and she laughed with pleasure and went out into the sunshine.
Sepoo and his wife Pamba were squatting below the verandah, chatting and laughing with the other waiting patients.
When they saw her they both squealed with delight and came running, competing with each other to take her hands and tell her all the news since their last meeting, trying to shout each other down to be the first to impart the choicest morsels of scandal and sensation from the tribe.
One on each hand they led her to her usual seat on the top step of the verandah and sat beside her, still chattering in unison. Swilli has had a baby. It is a boy and she says she will bring it to show you at the next full moon, said Pamba. There will be a great net hunt soon, and all the tribes will join. . . said Sepoo.
I have brought you a bundle of the special roots I told you about last time we met, shrilled Pamba, not to be outdone by her husband.
Her bright eyes were almost hidden in a cobweb of wrinkles and half her teeth were missing. I shot two colobus monkeys, boasted Sepoo. And I have brought you one of the skins to make a beautiful hat, Kara-Ki.
You are kind, Sepoo, Kelly thanked him. But what news from Sengi-Sengi? What about the yellow machines that eat the earth and obble up the forest?
What news of the big white man with curly hair and the woman with hair like fire who looks into the little black box all the time?
Strange, said Sepoo importantly. There is strange news.
The big man with curly hair has run away from Sengi-Sengi.
He has run into the forest to hide. Sepoo was gabbling it out to prevent Pamba from getting in before him. And the government wazungu at Sengi-Sengi have offered Pirri my brother, vast treasure and reward to hunt the man and kill him.
Kelly stared at him in horror. Kill him? she blurted. They want Pirri to kill him? And cut off his head, Sepoo confirmed with relish.
Is it not strange and exciting? You have to stop him! Kelly sprang to her feet, dragging Sepoo up with her. You must not let Pirri kill him.
You must rescue the white man and bring him here to Gondola. -Do you hear me, Sepoo? Go, now! Go swiftly! You must stop Pirri. I will go with him to see that he does what you tell him, Kara-Ki, Pamba announced. For he is 2 stupid old man, and if he hears the honey chameleon whistle or meets one of his cronies in the forest, he will forget everything you have told him. She turned to her husband.