Once again the journey and the return from Lion Tree Camp to Windhoek took her truck-driver eight days, and Centaine wondered more than once during that time if she had not left it too late. The child in her was big and urgent. Impatiently it demanded release, so that when she at last heard the distant beat of the motors of the returning vehicles, her relief was intense.
From the canvas flap she watched the arrival. In the lead truck rode Lothar De La Rey, and though she tried to ignore it, she felt her pulse quicken when she watched him climb down from the cab, tall and elegant and graceful, despite the dust and heat of the long journey.
The next traveller whom Lothar handed down from the truck took Centaine by surprise. A nun in habit and hood of the Benedictine order.
I told him a nurse, I didn't expect a sister, she muttered angrily. In the back of the truck were two young Nama girls. Golden-brown skins and pretty little cheerful pug faces, each of them with an infant on her hip, their breasts heavy with milk beneath the cotton print trade dresses they wore, so much alike that they must be sisters.
The wet nurses, she realized, and now that they were here, these brown strangers of another race that would give suck to her child, Centaine felt the first truly bitter pang of regret of what she must do.
Lothar came to her tent, his bearing still aloof and reserved, and handed her a packet of letters before introducing the nun to her.
This is Sister Amehana of the hospital of St Anne, he told her. She is of my mother's family, a cousin. She is a trained midwife, but she speaks only German. We can rely upon her completely. A gaunt, white-faced woman, Sister Arneliana had the smell of dried roses petals about her, and her eyes were frosty and disapproving as she looked at Centaine and said something to Lothar.
She wishes to examine you, Lothar translated. I will return later to discuss the work you have for my company. She does not like me. Centaine returned Sister Ameliana's flat hostile stare, and Lothar hesitated before he explained.
She does not approve of our bargain. Her whole life is devoted to the birth and care of babies. She does not understand how you can give up your own infant, as is apparent, neither do U Tell her that I do not like her either, but she is to perform the task- she came for and not place herself in judgment over me. Centaine- he protested.
Tell her, Centaine insisted, and they spoke rapidly in German before he turned back to Centaine.
She says that you understand each other. That is good.
She has come only for the child. As to judgment, she leaves that to our Heavenly Father. Tell her to get on with the examination then. After Sister Arneliana had finished and left, Centaine read her letters. There was one from Garry Courtney, full of all of Theuniskraalls news, and at the end he had affixed Shasa's inky thumbprint below his own signature with the notation: Michel Courtney, his mark. Anna's voluminous wad of notepaper, covered with her large ill-formed scrawl though difficult to decipher, left Centaine with a warm after-glow of pleasure.
Then she broke the seal of Abraham Abrahams's letter, the last in the package.
My dear Mrs Courtney, Your letter and Dr Twenty-man-Jones's intelligence have thrown me into a fever of incredulous amazement. I cannot find the words to express my admiration for your achievement nor the pleasure I feel for your great good fortune. However, I will not weary you with my felicitations and will come directly to business.
Dr Twenty-man-Jones and I have conducted extensive negotiations with the directors and managers of the Standard Bank, who have studied and evaluated the samples and report. The bank has agreed to make available to you a loan at 5% percent interest per annum in the sum of $100,000. You may draw upon this as you require it, and it is further agreed that this is merely a preliminary figure, and that additional amounts will be forthcoming to you in future. The loan is secured by the claim deeds of the H'ani Mine.
Dr Twenty-man-jones has also met with Mr Lothar De La Rey, and set out for him in detail the requirements of phase one of the development of the property.
Mr De La Rey has tendered a contract price of 5,000 pounds for the commission of this work. By Virtue of your authority, I have accepted this tender and delivered to him the initial payment of 11,000 f or which I hold his receipt Centaine skimmed through the rest of the letter, smiling at Abrahams's comment: I have sent you the stores you required. However, I am much intrigued by the two dozen mosquito nets you have asked for. Perhaps one day you will explain what you intend to do with these, and thereby allay my burning curiosity.
Then she set the letter aside for later rereading and sent for Lothar.
He came immediately. Sister Ameliana assures me that all is well, that the pregnancy proceeds naturally without any complication, and that it is very nearly over. Centaine nodded and indicated the camp chair facing her.
I have not yet congratulated you on your discovery, he said as he sat down. Doctor Twenty-man-jones puts a conservative value on your mining property Of S,3,000,000 sterling. It almost surpasses belief, Centaine. She inclined her head slightly and told him in a straight and level voice, As you are working for me and because of the circumstances of our personal relationship, I believe the correct address in future will be Mrs Courtney. The use of my given name suggests a familiarity that no longer exists between us. His smile shrivelled and died. He remained silent.
You wish me to begin at once, not after the birth? At once, sir, she said sharply, and I will personally oversee the clearing of the tunnel that leads into the valley, which is the first step. We will begin tomorrow night.
By dusk they were ready. The pathway leading up the valley to the entrance of the cavern of the bees had been cleared and widened, and Lothar's labour gangs had carried up the cords of mopani wood and stacked -them at hand.
It was as though the bees of the great hive were aware of the threat, for as the sun set, its rays were shot through with the darting golden motes of the swift little insects, and the heated air trapped between the cliffs vibrated with the hum of their wings as they swirled about the heads of the sweating labourers. If it had not been for the protective mosquito nets, it was certain that all of them would have been stung repeatedly.
As the darkness fell, however, the flights of disturbed insects vanished back into the depths of the cavern. Centaine allowed an hour to pass, for the hive to quieten and settle for the night, then she told Lothar quietly, You can light the smoke-pots. Four men, Lothar's most reliable, bent over their pots.
These were five-pound bully-beef cans, the sides perforated, the insides packed with charcoal and the herbs which Centaine had pointed out to them for gathering.
The secret of the herbs was a legacy to her from O'wa, and she thought of the old Bushman now as they lit the smoke-pots and the acrid odour of burning herbs prickled her nostrils. Lothar's men were swinging the smoke-pots on short lengths of wire, to fan the charcoal. They reminded Centaine of the incense-bearers in the Easter procession to the cathedral of Arras on Good Friday.
When all four smoke-pots were burning evenly, Lothar gave a quiet order to his men and they moved towards the entrance of the cavern. In the lantern light, they looked like wraiths. Their lower bodies were protected by heavy calf boots and leather breeches, while over their heads and torsos were draped the ghostly white mosquito nets. One by one they stooped into the entrance of the cavern, thick blue smoke boiling up from the swinging smoke-pots.
Centaine let another hour pass before she and Lothar followed them into the cavern.
The acrid smoke had fogged the interior so that she could only see a few paces ahead, and the eddying blue clouds made her giddy and nauseated. However, the dynamo hum of the great hive had been lulled by the smoke. The multitudes of glittering insects hung in drugged clusters from the ceiling and the honeycombs. There was only a sleepy whisper of sound.