“Is he our guide?” Gaye asked.
“That’s right.”
“And another black friend of his,” Fennel said with a sneer.
Ken hesitated, then walked away.
Garry said, “Wouldn’t it be an idea if you tried to be pleasant for a change? Right now, you act as if you have a boil on your ass.”
Fennel glowered at him.
“I act the way I like, and no one stops me!”
“Plenty of time to squabble when the job’s done,” Gaye said quietly. “Be nice, Mr. Fennel.”
He glowered at her, got up and walked out of the restaurant. Gaye and Garry paused to congratulate the fat Indian on his curry, and then followed Fennel across the square to the garage.
“He’s sweet, isn’t he?” Gaye said softly.
“He’s a fat slob. If he goes on like this, he’ll get a poke in his snout!”
“Remember what Armo said… he’s dangerous.”
Garry scowled.
“So am I. It bothers me that Ken has to travel with him.”
But he was less bothered when he saw a tall, magnificently built Bantu, wearing bush clothes with a bush hat pinned up Australian fashion on one side, shaking hands with Ken.
“That must be Themba. Well, Ken and he can take care of Fennel; that’s for sure.”
Ken made the introductions. Whereas Garry and Gaye shook hands, Fennel just stared at the big Bantu and then walked over to the Land Rover to make sure his bag of tools was still there.
“Themba only talks Afrikaans,” Ken explained. “So conversationally he’s a dead loss to you two.”
“I think he looks wonderful,” Gaye said admiringly.
“He’s great. We’ve worked together for five years… no better tracker in Natal.”
They climbed into the Land Rover. Themba occupied a small swing-out seat at the rear, placing him above the others and giving him a good view of the country.
“Now, we go into the jungle,” Ken said. “If there’s any game to spot, Themba will find it.”
Another ten minutes of driving brought them off the main road to a grit road and the drive became bumpy.
“It gets worse as it goes on,” Ken said cheerfully, “but you’ll get used to it.”
It did get worse, and Ken had to cut down speed. Pot holes began to appear in the road and the Land Rover banged and bumped, making everyone hold on, with Fennel cursing under his breath.
A mile or so further on, Themba said something to Ken, and Ken slowed and steered the Land Rover off the road into the bush. They were moving slowly now and they all had to look out for thorny bushes and low hanging branches which became hazardous as they went on.
Suddenly before them was a big waterbuck with its majestic antlers, looking towards them. It turned and was away with high leaping steps, displaying a perfect ring of white fur around its rump.
“Oh, I love him!” Gaye explained. “And that white ring… it’s marvellous!”
“Do you know how he got that?” Ken asked, grinning. “I’ll tell you. When the waterbuck arrived at the Ark, he rushed up to Noah and said, “Mr. Noah, please where is the nearest toilet?” Noah said, “You’ll have to wait. All the toilets have just been painted.” The waterbuck said, “I can’t wait.” It’s had that ring ever since.”
“Why don’t you look where you’re driving and stop the yak?” Fennel growled while the others laughed.
“Can’t please everyone all the time,” Ken said, shrugging, and continued on.
Gaye was noticing that many of the trees were broken and dead, giving the bush a stricken look.
“Did lightning do all this damage?” she asked.
“What, those trees— No… elephants. Must have had a big herd through here at one time. The elephant is the most destructive beast of any wild game. They strip the trees and smash them as they move. Wherever an elephant has been, you’ll find dead trees.”
A little later they came upon five giraffes and Ken stopped within fifty metres of them. The animals stood motionless, staring.
“I wish I hadn’t packed my camera,” Gaye sighed. “They seem completely tame.”
“They’re not tame… they’re eaten up with curiosity,” Ken explained, and even as he spoke the gigantic animals turned and lolloped away, covering the ground at high speed although seeming to move like a slow motion film.
“Lions dig for them, but they seldom catch them,” Ken went on, setting the Land Rover moving again.
“Are there any lions in this district?” Gaye asked. “I’d love to see one.”
“You will, and hear them too.”
Themba from his perch above them was continually calling to Ken, giving him directions.
“Without this guy,” Ken confided to Gaye, “I’d never find the camp. He has a compass built inside his head.”
After half an hour’s drive, during which time they disturbed a large herd of zebras which went crashing away into the thick bush almost before they could be seen, they came out of the bush on to a wide flat clearing where the helicopter was parked.
Squatting before the helicopter were four Bantus who rose to their feet with wide grins as the Land Rover pulled up.
“Here we are,” Ken said getting out of the truck. “I’ll pay these guys off. We don’t want them hanging around. Themba and I can get the tent up.”
Garry went at once to the helicopter. Gaye slid to the ground and stretched. It had been a bumpy ride and she felt stiff and hot. Fennel got down and lit a cigarette. He showed no inclination to help Themba unload the equipment, but stood with his hands in his shorts pockets, eyeing Gaye as she stood with her back to him, her legs wide apart, her hands on her hips.
Ken got rid of the Bantus and came back to the Land Rover. “There’s a big pool beyond those trees and a waterfall,” he said to Gaye, pointing. “It’s safe swimming… no crocs.”
“Can I help?”
“No, thanks… Themba and I can handle it.”
He joined Themba, and together the two men unloaded the tent.
Breathing unsteadily, Fennel moved over to Gaye.
“A waterfall, huh? Suppose we go take a look at it?”
He was expecting her to refuse, and already his vicious temper began to rise. She regarded him, her face expressionless, then to his surprise, she said, “Yes… let’s look at it,” and turning, she walked ahead, making for the thick line of trees and high elephant grass that surrounded the clearing.
Fennel felt a hot rush of blood through his body. Was this an invitation? He looked quickly towards the helicopter. Garry was busy stripping off the engine tarpaulin. Ken and Themba were occupied with unfolding the tent. Shaking a little, Fennel strode after Gaye who had now disappeared into the bush.
He caught up with her as she moved along a narrow track and he slowed his pace, his eyes on her slim back and long beautiful legs. Some twenty metres further on they came to a small waterfall that fell some ten metres into a big basin of water which flowed at its far end into a broad stream. The basin formed a perfect, artificial bathing pool.
She turned as he reached her.
“Isn’t it lovely?”
The sun beat down on them. They were surrounded by trees. They could have been the only two people on earth.
“Let’s have a swim,” Fennel said and stripped off his shirt. “Come on, baby, strip off.”
She looked at his hairy, muscular torso, her eyes watchful as she shook her head. “I swim in private, Mr. Fennel.”
“Aw, come on! You don’t imagine I’ve never seen a naked woman before, and I bet you’ve seen a naked man.” He grinned fixedly, his face flushed with desire for her. “You don’t have to be coy with me. Strip off, or I’ll have to help you.”
Her cool, unafraid gaze disconcerted him.
“You swim… I’m going back.”
As she turned away, he caught hold of her wrist.