Sacred Hunger (81 page)

“We drink him health an” happy an’ good long life,” he said.

All the people present echoed this and drank. The orchestra struck up again with renewed vigour.

Paris glanced round. As always, he looked first for Tabakali in order to know that she was there, and well.

She was standing with Sallian and Dinka, tall and very beautiful to Paris with her smile and the proud movements of her head. He saw some of the parties to that morning’s dispute mingling together without apparent animosity. Hambo and Iboti and Billy were standing together in the same group. Kireku had at least deigned to make an appearance, though he kept apart, Barton as usual at his elbow.

Paris drank and felt the sourish beer spread a warmth within him. His mood lightened. He found hope in this enclave of firelight and mingling voices and din of music—a hope that was inveterate, perhaps ultimately beyond defeat, tenacious enough in any case to acknowledge that only the surrounding darkness conferred unity upon them. An accident then, perhaps; but they had met here together to celebrate the appearance of a new life; and that, surely, was also to affirm a future in which new life could grow without stunting…

Heated with his efforts, Sullivan laid down his fiddle and went to replenish his can. This brought him up close to Billy Blair, who was about the same business. Billy was in the best of moods, but he had drunk enough to make him slightly abrasive and Sullivan, to whom he was very attached, always roused his spirit of satire.

‘What fettle?”’ he said. ” ‘Tis a funny thing, but you havna” changed one iota, Michael. Still scrapin’ away, just as you was doin’ in that whorehouse in Liverpool, the neet you an’ me come alongside all them years ago.”

Sullivan detected at once the note of disrespect for his music, but he was not much put out by it; he was in a particularly exuberant frame of mind this evening, due in part to the beer, but mainly to the encouraging glances he had been getting from Koudi, whom he had always thought a fine woman, despite the aura of misfortune that hung about her. She was young too, not so many years older than Dinka. He had been playing with particular feeling tonight for her sake and he felt that she had understood this and would not be averse to a man like himself appearing on the doorstep.

‘Aye, bejabbers,” he said, “you are right, Billy, an” to think of it, I would niver have come here at all, if it hadn’t been for you walkin’ in that night, full of boastin’ an’ vainglory. You haven’t changed neether, Billy, all these years in the wilderness, an’ still full of yourself.”

‘Lucky for you, bonny lad, that I come in that neet,” Billy said. “You was on a downhill path. I saved you from yourself.”

“Oh aye, very lucky,” Sullivan said with deep sarcasm. “I might have been livin’ in a grand house by now, with silver buckles to me shoes an’ lace to me cuffs an’ drinkin’ brandy from a crystal glass stead of beer from a ship’s cannikin.”

‘allyou would ha” been dead o’ drink or clap or both by this time,” Billy said. ‘allyou didna” look set on a prosperous career when I sighted you hove short in that poxy tavern.”

‘The trouble with you, Billy,” Sullivan said, “an” it is the same trouble as affected you in them days, I remember makin’ a mental note of it at the time, you are not a truly travelled man, in the best sense of that word, you are not acquainted with the usages of society. If you was, you would know without needin’ to be told that all doors are open to the artist.” He caught Koudi’s eye and smiled at her and raised his cannikin. ‘never mind, shipmate, you cannot help it,” he said, “I drink your health in spite of shortcomin’s.”

Billy returned the health and drank, but the blood had come with a rush to his head at this condescension. Like practically everyone else he had heard by now of Sullivan’s failed attempt on Dinka. He had thought to say nothing of it, as taking advantage of a man who was down; but the other’s unabashed and unrepentant air destroyed his resolution in a moment. “All doors open to the artist, are they?”’ he said. “They wasn’t open to you last night, was they, doors nor legs?”’

“You have lost me, Billy. What legs is that?”’ They had turned back now towards the fire and Sullivan was making to where he had left his fiddle.

“Dinka’s door wasn’t open to you, by what I hear. While you was exercisin” yor elber outside, Sefadu was exercisin’ sommat else indoors.”

Sullivan opened his eyes wide. ‘What?”’ he said. “You’ll niver believe I was tryin” to intrude meself? Is that what they are sayin’?

Holy Mary! I was givin’ the young couple a love-song.” Suddenly he noticed the majestic bulk of Sallian close by and realized she could hear them. ‘allyou got de story all foul up,” he said, raising his voice a little. “I give de couple love-song, give dem music make de fust night sweet for dem. I music man dis place. You no tink man ken give something, ask nottin’ back? I real sorry for you, Billy.

Look what Sallian do for you, she ask nottin’ back. Dat one good woman. All dese year she cook for you an’ Inchebe, she niver shut you out.”

Billy too had now realized the proximity of Sallian. ‘Dat trut”,” he said hastily.

‘She good woman pas” anyone. Inchebe an’ me, we sabee dat good.”

‘allyou sabee dat good?”’ Sallian broke in, her broad, good-humoured face as severe as it could ever possibly be. “You sabee dat so good, mebbe you sabee dat dere no nyam in de house for eat tomorrow cept dry corn an” koonti, no meat, no fish. You drink plenty beer, talk plenty fine. Inchebe altagedder same-same. You tink I feed two man six pikin koonti mush an’ squirrel-tail?”’

This public complaint stung Billy’s pride.

‘Why you say dis now, middle de bleddy neet?

Dat jus” like a woman, she wait de time man happy drink some beer den she say hum-hum, go find nyam in de dark.”

‘Fish in de creek, dey no die when dark come,” Tabakali said, joining in on Sallian’s behalf. The slighting reference to women had not pleased her.

Faced with this formidable combination, Billy glanced round for Inchebe, but he was too far away to be of any help. He drew himself up. “Right den,” he said. “Me an” Inchebe, we go out catch fish soon de party finish.”

‘Head full of beer, you no catch nottin”,”

Sallian said scornfully. ‘Catch fall on you face.” She smiled in spite of herself and her body shook a little. Billy often made her laugh, though he rarely knew precisely why; it was one of the things that had kept her tenderly disposed towards him over the years. “Catch paka bite you ball,” she said, still laughing. She did not believe that he would go.

But Billy was on his dignity now. “You go see,” he said. “Billy Blair, him word him bond. Say do one ting, he do dat ting. Inchebe altagedder same-same.” He moved away in good order, turning short on Sullivan when he was out of range. “See what you done? Now I got to go out fishin” in the middle o’ the bleddy neet.”

Sullivan appeared unmoved. ‘Ah, what we do for the ladies,” he said. “But then, where would we be without ‘em, Billy, tell me that. There is one here tonight that sees me worth.”

“She needs glasses then,” said the exasperated Billy. “Michael, I make you out to be round forty-four years old. You’ve got precious little to offer, a rabbit now and then, a few rows o” pompions and pumpkins, a basket o’ clams. You’ll never get a young “un now, not with all these lads comin” up.”

Sullivan smiled and shook his head. ‘allyou are forgettin” one thing, Billy.”

‘An” what may that be?”’

‘allyou are forgettin” the power of music’

The sound of the music carried far through the night.

Occasional strains came to the ears of Erasmus Kemp as he advanced cautiously in the faint moonlight, with Nipke and the Creek scouts leading the way and the labouring troops strung out behind.

Guessing that some sort of celebration was in progress comand thankful for it as reducing the vigilance of those he was seeking he asked Cochrane to order a halt. It was his idea to encircle the settlement while everyone was sleeping and attack in the early morning before they had time to make any resistance. Surprise was the essence of this plan; they must be taken before they could scatter and run— once in the bush they would be impossible to capture; he had no resources for pursuit, and the troops would be vulnerable in the extreme to ambush and harassment. Everything, then, depended on this dawn attack. If successful, there need be little bloodshed, the whole population could be disarmed and bound and brought to where the boats had been left. With luck they could all be at sea again by the evening of next day, on the way to Still Augustine.

So Erasmus reviewed his plans, while the troops crouched waiting, straggled over a low outcrop of limestone which was the driest land they could find. They were newly arrived from England, mainly country boys from Wiltshire, weary and dispirited now after long hours of struggling through this unfamiliar and difficult terrain, alternately scrambling and wading, burdened with musket and pack, dragging the high-wheeled cannon behind them. It had not occurred to their superiors that the hot, close-fitting, conspicuous tunics might be in any way unsuitable for an expedition of this kind. They had had to be disembarked the night before under cover of darkness and had spent the whole of the following day lying concealed, waiting for nightfall. Two men were already disabled, one bitten by a cotton-mouth snake, the other with a broken collarbone from falling down a pothole in the limestone ridge.

None of this affected the issue and so it was not of much concern to Erasmus. He was close to his quarry now. It was not weariness he found himself having to contend with, but a tearing impatience. For a good hour after the music had ceased he governed himself to remain there, on this rocky strand, with the misty exhalations of the marsh rising all round, weirdly shot with moonlight, vicious with mosquitoes, echoing occasionally with loud percussive sounds, like metal striking stone, produced, so Nipke had told him, by the jaws of infant alligators snapping at frogs and crayfish in the shallow water. When he was sure that all was silent ahead of him, he informed Lieutenant Cochrane that he was ready to proceed.

By the time this order was given Billy and Inchebe had set off in an opposite direction on their fishing expedition. They were not on very good terms to begin with. Inchebe felt, not without reason, that his consent had been taken too much for granted and Billy’s appeals to their joint honour were received coldly. But Inchebe was not a man to bear a grudge and he had grown fond of Billy, despite the fact that they argued frequently together—indeed, with Billy’s constantly baffled sense of logic, argument was impossible to avoid. Quite apart from this, when two men are engaged in a task requiring such a degree of cooperation as does spearing fish at night, they had better put aside any difference between them.

Once afloat in their shallow canoe between the low banks of the creek, the two forgot everything but the business of catching fish. They had made a hearth in the middle of the craft, raised nearly to the level of the gunwales, and on this they built a fire of lighter-wood, the dried-out, resinous heartwood of the pine. This, split into small slivers, would blaze up and burn from end to end, like a candle. It fell to Billy, as the less accomplished harpoonist, to tend to the fire and keep it flaming, also to help control the motions of the canoe as required. For this a very fine, almost instinctive judgement was needed and Billy was expert at it, even when slightly clouded by drink.

Inchebe stood at the stern with his cane spear.

He had fashioned this himself, pointing it with fish-bone, carving the barbs and hardening them with fire. He used the butt end to guide the canoe, very gently, so as to steal upon the fish without any noise or disturbance of the water.

For a man as dexterous as Inchebe, who had been given his first throwing spear at the age of ten by his father as a circumcision present, fishing at night had distinct advantages. The dazzled fish would lie still for long periods gazing at the flame; and the river bottom was revealed more closely to the fisherman than was possible in daylight.

None the less, it was generally a slow business and slower tonight than usual perhaps, since Inchebe too felt the effects of the beer. A shadow, a wrong movement, the faintest marring of the surface, and the fish would vanish in flickers of silver. Often enough the thrust would fail and then they were obliged to wait, drifting on the slow current, till all was calm and the fish drew near again.

It was a long time before the first successful strike, but then two more came quickly, snapper fish, like the first —they had found a shoal. Lanced through, the red fish twitched briefly on the skewer, yielding in this death-display the marvellous iridescence of its colours, pink and deep gold, burnished in the light of the flames.

Billy, while not ceasing to concentrate on the fire and the stealthy management of his short paddle, fell slowly into a state of contemplation, induced by the silence around them and the gentle progress of the canoe.

The flames before his face shut out the tree-lined verges of the river. Beyond their fire the night was limitless, without boundaries. Within its range all was a play of light and shadow. The surface of the water on either side was clearly illuminated and he could see the fish lying tranced with light—a condition not much different from his own. Except that I am safe, I am the hunter, Billy thought. He was a man impulsive to the point of rashness and ignorant in many ways; but he had felt the need lately to understand the meaning of his life. He was convinced there was a meaning if only he could find the key; and because of this he was always open to wonder, which is where, if anywhere, any such understanding must begin. It was wonder he felt now as he leaned forward to feed the fire with splinters and looked up at Inchebe standing poised beyond the flames, the reddish light cast upward on the wet shaft of his spear and the upper part of his chest with its livid scar. Somewhere amidst all this the meaning lay, if only he could find words to state it…

He had a sense that the sky was beginning to lighten.

They would be returning soon. They would have fish to take back, perhaps half a dozen good-sized snappers. In the self-congratulation of this thought the sense of being on the brink of some momentous discovery faded. But Billy knew at that moment that he was happy and that he would not change places with an earl or a duke.