"Last year …" his voice was tense, the words beating into my brain with the glare of the heat refracted from sand and stone. "I discovered something in a cave-dwelling on Meganisi. By an island called Tiglia in the channel between Meganisi and Levkas. Some bones. I sent them to Adrian. I asked him to get them dated. Human bones-pieces of a skull-cap, part of a jaw, some teeth. Also fragments of animal bone, part of a woolly rhinoceros."
"There's a letter from him on your desk."
"Does he give the dating?"
"About thirty-five thousand b.p."
He nodded as though it confirmed what he already knew.
"He also made the point that you had no right to keep the location of such an important find to yourself."
"Good!" He seemed pleased. He was smiling. "When something like that is sent in for dating. ." The smile had bared his teeth again, the eyes cunning, that wolfish look. "They talk. They pass it on. Soon everybody knows, and then the vultures gather." He laughed, but only as an emphasis to bitterness. "You're staying at the camp, are you? You'll be there when Holroyd arrives?"
I nodded, wondering what was in his mind. His face had smoothed out again, an expression of innocence. "Perhaps Adrian is right. The individual in the field is unimportant. What is important is the corporate knowledge of the scientific world as a whole. That's what they say, isn't it? That's their excuse." His hands clenched again. "But what happens if the scientific world doesn't believe you? How do you make them understand if they reject, not the truth, but the man himself?" He was speaking in a whisper, his eyes lowered as though communing with his feet. "Then you must use other methods. I've been thinking about that, all the time I've been alone. And now you come here, young, thoughtless, full of energy and vitality. ." He stopped suddenly, his head cocked on one side, listening. I heard it then, the faint sound of a bell. "Sheep," he said. "Every few days that bell-wether leads the flock across the dunes to grazing on the far side. There's a shepherd with them." His head had turned towards the shaft of stones that was his refuge and he began to get to his feet. The bell was jangling now and he paused, his hands still on the ground, his body crouched, and that hunted look back in his eyes. "Something has disturbed them. They're running."
Faint on the wind I heard the distant sound of a human voice, a man shouting. It came from the far side of the dune, from the way I had come, and I thought I heard a dog bark. I was on my feet then, running along the dune top, and where it fell into the ravine of which I had climbed to have my lunch, I saw the sheep in a huddle, facing away from me, their eyes on the dog. It was an Alsatian, and the soldier who held it on its leash was arguing with the shepherd. Beyond them was Kotiadis, in his shirt sleeves, his jacket over his arm and his tie hanging loose.
I turned and ran back, out of sight below the crest of the dune, the sound of the shepherd's voice raised in anger fading behind me. The old man was on his feet when I reached him and I grabbed the rucksack and thrust it into his hand. "Quick!" I said. "Down there." And I pointed to an area of rock exposed by erosion. There was just a chance. "It's Kotiadis with a tracker dog. But he's following my tracks, not yours. Lie flat and keep your head down."
I didn't wait to see whether he understood. There wasn't time. I back-tracked along the ridge, and where the dune ended, I saw the dog again pulling the soldier along on a tight leash, Kotiadis close behind them. They were circling the flock now and for a moment I was in full view of them as I slid down the side of the dune. But they were so intent on the trail, and on keeping their footing in the loose sand, that I got away into a hollow in the dunes without being seen. I was in the floor of the ravine then, the dune between me and the parallel ravine, the old shaft-head out of sight.
I kept to the floor of the ravine, following a line of old sheep droppings. It led me to the end of the dune country, and as I climbed the last slope of sand, I heard the sheep bell again, far away and sounding quietly. The dog was silent. By then I had put the better part of a mile between myself and the place where I had left him. There was no point in going on, and where the sand ended, giving way to rock and a sort of maquis scrub interspersed with patches of poor grass, I sat down to recover my breath.
About five minutes later they came into view, the dog with his nose down, still following my trail. The soldier saw me first, standing and pointing excitedly, the dog straining at the leash. "Are you alone?" Kotiadis called up to me. He could see I was alone and he said something to the soldier, and then came panting up the slope. "Where is Dr. Van der Voort?"
"I didn't know you were following me," I said.
"Of course, I follow you. What do you expect?" He was hot and angry at finding me alone. "Where is Dr. Van der Voort?" he repeated. "He is somewhere here. I am sure of it." He was out of breath and a whiff of garlic came to me on the hot air. "Why else do you come here?"
I began to tell him about the geological significance of the dunes. But he hadn't come here with a soldier and a tracker dog to be lectured on the last Ice Age. "Where is your rucksack? You have a rucksack when you get on to the bus."
"Have you been following me since seven o'clock this morning?"
"But of course."
I was annoyed with myself for not realizing the trap he had set for me.
"Where is your rucksack?" he repeated.
"Somewhere around," I said. "I put it down when I had lunch, but these dunes are confusing."
He sat down beside me. "Now you answer my questions please. Why do you come here?"
Patiently I started in again on the strange nature of the dunes. But he refused to be side-tracked. He was still hot and angry, impatient for something to justify the time and energy he had expended. The interrogation was not a success. Finally he said, "Okay, we look for your rucksack now."
But of course we didn't find it. He'd given the dog the wrong briefing and only once did the animal take us anywhere near the shaft with its shadowed cavity. Finally I suggested the shepherd might have picked it up and that took us a good mile from the dune country and wasted almost an hour. In the end he gave it up and we went down to the road where the soldier had parked his army truck.
The sun had set and it was almost dark by the time we got back to Despotiko. They were just settling down to their evening meal. "You will stay in the camp now," Kotiadis said. "You are not permitted to leave it-any of you."
It was dark under the trees and their faces, as they listened to him, were lit by the glow of the fire. "What about the cave?" Cartwright asked. "I take it you're not stopping us from continuing our work?" And as Kotiadis hesitated, he added quickly, "I think I should tell you that Professor Hol-royd of London University is in Athens. I had a cable from him last night. He'll be at the General Direction of Antiquities today. That's under the Prime Minister's Office. And then he'll be coming on here to examine the cave-dwelling himself."
"You are not permitted to leave the camp. That is all I have said." Kotiadis moved towards Cartwright. "And now a word with you please."
Cartwright put his plate down and got to his feet. They went off together and Sonia said to me, "You must be hungry. Would you like some stew?" I think she expected me to be leaving with Kotiadis, for her eyes beckoned me to the fire, and as she handed me a plate, she whispered, "Did you find him?"
"Yes," I said. "He's all right-for the moment."
"Thank God!" she breathed.
I started to tell her what had happened, but she shook her head. "Not now."
Cartwright was leading Kotiadis to the old man's tent. She
followed them with her eyes, the ladle poised over the stew-pot. The old man's things were in there and I bent down, my head close to hers. "They've got a tracker dog." Her hair touched my cheek as she nodded. "Better eat this quickly," she said, pouring the contents of the ladle onto my plate.