A Spear of Summer Grass - By Deanna Raybourn Page 0,41
and raised a hand. He made a series of gestures and Ryder immediately stepped sharply behind me, his back pressed to mine. He cocked his rifle.
“What’s wrong?” I muttered under my breath.
“Fresh lion spoor,” he replied softly.
“And you’re behind me? My hero.”
“Lions tend to hunt in pairs or small groups and when they do, one always circles around behind. Now shut up.” His head swivelled as he scanned the grasses near us. Gideon moved cautiously forward. After a moment Gideon straightened and called out something in rapid Swahili.
“What did he say?”
“All clear. The lions already fed. There’s a zebra carcass just in that thicket. Keep your voice down, though. They’re probably resting not far away.”
I crept along until we came to a point just above a dry gulley where Ryder stopped to take a drink. He offered me a pull on his canteen, but I waved him off. I went to Gideon, motioning for him to give me a drink from his goatskin. He smiled his broad smile as he handed it over. I took a deep draught and nearly choked. It was blood mixed with milk, both of them warm and thick. The stuff coated my tongue and I willed myself to swallow it down without gagging. I wiped my lips on my sleeve, leaving long streaks of pale blood on the fabric.
“Christ,” I muttered. “A girl cannot have nice things in this country.”
I handed the goatskin back to Gideon and he smiled again. “Asante,” I said.
“Karibu, Bibi.”
“What does Bibi mean?”
“It is a respectful word that means madam. It may also mean other things.”
“Such as?”
“Such as grandmother or a lady who has no husband. Africans always give nicknames to the white settlers. It is our way.”
Behind me Ryder snickered. “What do they call him?” I asked, jerking a thumb towards Ryder.
“That is Bwana Tembo. Bwana means sir.”
“And what does Tembo mean?”
“Tembo is elephant, Bibi.”
I turned to Ryder who was barely concealing a smile. “They call you Sir Elephant?”
He capped his canteen and flashed me a wicked grin as he stood up. “Yep.”
I stood toe-to-toe with him. “Exactly why do they call you Sir Elephant?”
His gaze dropped to my mouth. He lifted his hand and ran his thumb across my lower lip. He held it up for my inspection. “You missed a spot.” He wiped the drop of blood onto his trousers. I heard the cicadas then, their sound shimmering in the air around us, beating against my ears, or maybe it was just the sound of my own pulse.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, I expect you’ll find out one of these days.” He turned away then looked back, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, and, just so you know, they call Kit Bwana Tausi.”
“What’s a tausi?”
“It’s a peacock. It means they think he’s all mouth and no trousers. Let’s go.”
I had to give the man credit; he knew how to play a good game. I could see how his rustic charm could be devastatingly effective under the right circumstances and with the right girl. Pity for him he didn’t realise yet I was the wrong one.
But there was nothing he didn’t know about the African bush. By the time he had walked me around and back to Fairlight, I knew the major landmarks, how to calculate my position and when the most dangerous times for lions were. He showed me the luggas—empty riverbeds thick with foliage and little caves—the preferred lair of the leopard. He cautioned me about the buffalo, which could hammer me flat, and the snakes that spat venom and the ant-bear holes where I could snap an ankle and a thousand other horrors until it all ran together in my head and I wondered aloud if there was any place on earth as dangerous as Africa.
“Not that I’ve found,” he replied cheerfully.
We approached Fairlight from a different path than the one we had taken out, and Ryder stopped as we reached the gate.
“You’ll be safe enough here. The path leads through those Christ-thorn bushes and opens right up onto the lawn. Just remember what I said about never going out without a weapon and a guide.”
If he realised I had walked to Kit’s unattended, he didn’t let on and I wasn’t about to rat myself out. “If I’m not supposed to go walking alone, why did you bother to teach me anything at all?”
“Because you can’t really ever depend on anybody but yourself.”