the safety strap with all her strength as the Avon's buoyancy exerted
itself and the boat bounded high in the air, whipping back elastically
into its original shape, then hovered a moment and almost capsized
before it crashed back, right side up.
One of the crew had been hurled overboard and was floundering alongside,
carried along at the same speed as the flying Avon, so his comrades were
able to lean out and haul him back on board. The cargo of ammunition
crates had tumbled and shifted, but the nets had prevented any of them
from being lost over the side.
"What did you do that for?" Royan yelled at him. "Just when I was
beginning to trust you."
"Just testing'he yelled back. "Wanted to see how tough you really are."
"I admit it, I am a sissy," she assured him. "You really don't need to
do it again."
Looking back, Nicholas saw Mek's boat crash through the trough just as
they had, but the following craft had enough warning to steer clear and
slip through the sides of the run.
He looked ahead again, and his whole existence became the wild waters of
the river. His universe was contained within the tall cliffs of the
sub-gorge as he battled to bring the racing Avon through. He did not
know whether it was spray or rain that stung his cheeks and his wounded
chin, and that flew horizontally into his eyes and half-blinded him. At
times it was a mixture of the two.
An hour later Nicholas misjudged the rapids again, and they went in
sideways and almost capsized. Two of his crew were hurled overboard.
Steering fine and leaning outboard they managed to pull one of them from
the river, but the other man struck a rock before they could reach him.
He went under and did not rise again. None of them spoke or mourned him,
for they were all too busy staying alive themselves.
Once Royan shouted up at Nicholas through the rattling spray and the
thunder of the river all around them, "Helicopter! Can you hear it?"
Half-deafened, he looked up at the lowering grey belly of the clouds
that hung at the level of the cliffs, and faintly made out the whistle
and flutter of the rotors.
"Above the cloud!" he shouted back, wiping the rain and the spray from
his eyes with the back of his hand.
"They will never spot us in this."
The onset of the African night was sped upon them by the low cloud. In
the gathering darkness another hazard leaped upon them with no warning
at all. One instant they were running hard and clear down a smooth
stretch of the river, and the next the waters opened ahead of them and
they were hurled out into space. It seemed that they fell for ever,
although it was a drop of not more than thirty feet, before they hit the
bottom and found themselves floating in a tangle of men and boats in the
pool below the falls. Here the river was stalled for a moment, revolving
upon itself while it gathered its strength for the next mad charge down
the gorge.
One of the Avons had capsized and was floating belly up - even its
highly stable hull had not been able to weather the down the falls,
The crews of the other ro boats gathered themselves and then paddled
across to drag the survivors from the water and to salvage the oars and
other floating equipment. It took the combined efforts of all of them to
right the overturned Avon, and then it was almost completely dark by the
time they had it back on even keel, "Count the crates!" Nicholas
ordered. "How many have we lost?"
He could hardly credit his good fortune when Sapper shouted back,
"Eleven still on board. All present and correct." The cargo nets were
holding well. But all of them, men and women, were exhausted and soaked
through and shivering with the cold., Any attempt to go on in darkness
would be suicidal. Nicholas looked across at Mek in the nearest boat and
shook his head.
"There is a bit of slack water in the angle of the cliff." Mek pointed
towards the tail of the pool. "We might be able to find moorings for the
night."
him-
There was a stunted but tough little tree growing out of the vertical
fissure in the rock, and they used this as a bollard and made a line
fast to it. Then they lashed all the Avons together in a line down the
cliff and settled in for the night. There was no chance of hot food or
drink, and they had to make do with some cold tinned rations eaten off
the blade of a bayonet, and a few chunks of soggy injera bread.
Mek scrambled over from his own boat and huddled down close beside
Nicholas with one arm over his shoulder and his lips close to his ear.
"I have made a roll call. Another man missing when we went over the
falls. We won't find him now."
"I am not doing too well," Nicholas admitted. "Perhaps you should lead
tomorrow."
"Not your fault." Mek squeezed his shoulders. "Nobody could have done
better. It was this last waterfall-' he broke off and they listened to
it thundering away in the darkness.
"How far have we come?" Nicholas asked. "And'how much further to go?"
"It's almost impossible to tell, but I guess we are halfway to the
border. Should reach there some time tomorrow afternoon."
They were silent for a while, and then Mek asked, "What is the date
today? I have lost count of the days."
"So have Nicholas tilted his wrist-watch so that he could read the
luminous dial in the last of the light. "Good God! It's the thirtieth
already," he said.
"Your pick-up aircraft is due at Roseires airstrip the day after
tomorrow."
"The first of April,'Nicholas agreed. "Will we make it?"
"You answer that question for me." Mek grinned in the night without
humour. "What, chances of your fat friend being late?"
jannie is a pro. He is never late," said Nicholas. Again a silence fell,
and then Nicholas asked, "When we reach Roseires, what do you want me to
do with your share of the booty?" Nicholas kicked one of the ammunition
crates.
"Do you want to take it with you?"
"After we see you off on the plane with your fat friend, we are going to
be doing some hot-footed running from Nogo. I don't want to be carrying
any extra luggage. You take my share with you. Sell it for me - I need
the money to keep fighting here."
"You trust me?"
"You are my friend."
"Friends are the easiest to cheat - they never expect it," Nicholas told
him, and Mek punched his shoulder and chuckled.
"Get some sleep. We will have to do some hard paddling tomorrow." Mek
stood up in the Avon as she pitched and rolled gently to the push of the
current. "Sleep well, old friend," he said, and climbed across to the
boat alongside, where Tessay waited for him.
Nicholas braced his back against the soft pneumatic gunwale of the Avon
and took Royan in his arms. She sat between his knees and leaned back
against his chest, shivering in her sodden clothes.
After a while her shivering abated, and she murmured, "You make a very
good hot'water bottle."
"That's one reason for keeping me around on a permanent basis," he said,
and stroked her wet hair. She did not answer him, but snuggled closer,
and a short while after, wards her breathing slowed as she fell into an
exhausted sleep.
Although he was cold and stiff and his shoulders ached and his palms
were blistered from wrestling with the steering oar, he could not find
sleep as readily as she had.
Now that the prospect of reaching the airstrip at Roseires loomed
closer, he was troubled by problems other than those of simply
navigating the river and battling his way Wot through Nogo's men. Those