The Leopard's Prey (32 page)

“You’re probably angry at us for coming to court. I can’t say as I blame you.” Jade was gratified to see Jelani look up suddenly at those words.
At least I have his attention.

“The magistrate treated me like a child.” Jelani ignored the food but drank the water.

Jade nodded. “He would have done that even if we hadn’t been there. He doesn’t know or care what deeds you have done in your youth.” She looked at his wounded foot, which peeked out from under his crossed legs. Instead of a rounded heel, the foot ended in a flat, callused plate. Another flat red circle appeared where the ankle bone should have been.

“He judges me by my size,” he said, looking up at Jade.

“He judged you by English law,” said Avery, holding up a hand when Jelani would have protested. “I think he knows now that you wield as much power over your village as if you were a man of twice your years. But if you are not thirteen years of age, then he must, by law, still treat you as a boy. But the next time he won’t. He’s declared that next month you will be a man.”

“And made to wear the
kipande
and told where I may go and where I may not go.” Jelani dropped the small metal cylinder by his feet, put his head between his hands, and sighed deeply. When he looked up, his soft brown eyes were moist. “My mother is too old now to work and pay her hut tax, and my father is dead.”

“What?” the others shouted in unison. “When did this happen?” asked Avery.

“Last month,” said Jelani.

Jade closed her eyes and silently reproached herself for not visiting the boy sooner. “I am sorry, Jelani.”

“Do not be, Simba Jike,” said Jelani. “He died at peace, knowing that I would be the mundu-mugo. But I must work on some bwana’s farm for six months to pay the hut tax for my mother and for the mundu-mugo, since that is now my hut. And I must also have a hut to live in on the bwana’s farm, since wherever I go, it will be too far to come home each day. Then I must pay tax on that hut as well.”

“Indentured servitude,” muttered Sam. “Only one step removed from slavery.”

“And if I am working away from the village, how will I learn to be the mundu-mugo like the elephant told me? My master has already dreamed of his death. It will be after three more long rains. I have much to learn.”

“I’ll pay your hut tax, Jelani,” said Avery, “and your mother’s.”

Jelani produced a thin, grim smile. “You are a kind man, Bwana Dunbury. But what of the others in my village? Many men do not come home anymore after being away so long. Their wives cannot leave the village and cook for them, so the men take new wives. The village has not so many babies now. The mundu-mugo has seen his future. I have seen my village’s as well. It will die unless I help it.” He put his head down again and rocked to and fro. “I do not know how.”

No one spoke for a while as they looked from one to another and back to the sorrowing boy before them.

“I would be happy to hire you,” said Beverly, “but I don’t think it would solve this dilemma. And,” she added, “I shouldn’t like giving you orders to fetch and carry.”

Avery slapped his leg and paced the floor. “Well, the entire system is completely fouled.” He jabbed his finger in the air as though pointing to a culprit. “The case against it has been argued over and over again back in London, you know. There are even antislavery leagues back home protesting, but no one here seems to think it’s a problem.”

“Avery, love,” said Beverly as she reached out her hand and took hold of his. “
This
is our home, now. You must get on the governing council and try to change things. Speak to the governor when he returns. Surely your voice will carry some weight.”

Avery patted her hand and smiled. “Only with you, my love. I’m afraid I will not have nearly as much influence as the older settlers, but I will do what I can. How can I not? But it still won’t solve our immediate problem.”

Jade smiled as he labeled the problem “our” instead of Jelani’s. “I’ll hire you, Jelani.”

He looked up. “I do not understand how that will help. If I must travel with you, how can I study with the mundu-
mugo
?”

“You won’t travel with me. You will live at your village and be my source.”

“Source? I do not understand, Simba Jike. Do you mean sorcerer? I have heard that word. I will not be something evil.”

Sam sat up straighter. “I think I understand, Jelani. A source is a beginning, a place where something starts, like the spring at the head of a river.”

Jelani frowned as he looked from Sam to Jade.

“You’ll be the source of my information,” Jade said. “I’ll write about the Kikuyu and you will tell me what I should write.”

“By thunder,” said Avery, “that’s a splendid idea.”

“You should write as well, Jelani,” said Beverly. “You should sell articles in your own words to the
London Times
.”

“Earn his own money, rather than depend on us for wages,” said Sam. “Beverly, that’s inspired.”

Jelani lifted his head higher and squared his shoulders. “Would it work? Would this paper pay for my stories?”

“We cannot make promises for them,” said Jade, “but I think so, yes. Still, until the money comes, please accept my offer.”

Sam leaned forward again. “If you’re going to write about what is happening to your people, Jelani, then I think that you need a bigger view of Africa. I can give you that.”

Jelani’s eyes opened wider, but, Jade noted, not with that innocent sense of excitement she’d seen in the past. Instead, his eyes held the gleam of a general who had been offered a view of the enemy camp.

“In your airplane?” Jelani asked. Sam nodded. “Thank you. Yes, I will go up.”

“Good,” said Sam. “I’ll take you aloft as soon as I get her back and running.”

“Well,” said Beverly and clapped her hands together, “that will be three authors among us: Jade, Maddy, and now Jelani. Perhaps I should try my hand at it next.”

Avery kissed his wife on the forehead. “Give it up, my dear. You cannot bear to write so much as a letter.”

“That’s not true. Jade, tell him what a fine correspondent I’ve been.”

“I’ve received one letter from you since the end of last January when you went back to London. One entire page in large hand, so you are definitely not ready for a novel.”

Beverly stuck out her tongue at Jade.

“And what happens now?” asked Avery.

“I need to find my plane,” said Sam, “and get it cleaned, repaired, and back in the air.” He looked at Jade. “Your bosses are going out today as far as the Naivasha Hotel and then on tomorrow to the Maasai village. Perkins wants you to photograph them at the village. Thinks it will be great publicity or something.” Sam explained how Anderson had expected Jade to be with them in the Naivasha Hotel and how he’d smashed that idea by telling them he needed Jade with him as a mechanic. “We should leave soon so we can get to the plane before nightfall.”

“And how are we going to get there if we don’t ride with Perkins?” asked Jade.

Sam cast a hopeful glance at Avery. “I was hoping we could use the Hupmobile?”

“And if you’re flying back, Sam, and Jade is still with the crew documenting their great rhino capture, what happens to my new automobile?”

Sam scratched his head. “Dang. Guess I sort of overlooked that part in my haste to salvage my plane and,” he added with a sidewise glance to Jade, “my girl.”

“Darling,” said Beverly, “why don’t you go with them? Then when our Jade has to leave Sam, he’s not bereft of mechanical assistance.
You
can drive your Hup back.”

“And leave you alone in your condition? I should think not. You cannot even get out of your chair without help.”

“I’ll have Jelani with me.” She turned to the young Kikuyu. “You could stay for a few days, couldn’t you, Jelani?”

“But the mundu-mugo—”

“Will not expect you for a while yet,” finished Jade, “not after you were hauled out of the village under arrest.” Jelani nodded his assent and started in on the chicken.

“I’ll send a wire to the Blue Post Hotel at Thika and ask someone to deliver a message to the Thompsons,” said Avery. “Neville ought to be able to spare Maddy to stay with Beverly for a few days, too.”

“Maddy’ll be wanting to check on any replies to her advertisement anyway,” added Jade. “Don’t forget you promised to talk to that Berryhill boy for me, Bev.” She stood up. “Oh, blast! I never reported the sabotage to the police. Sorry, Sam.”

Sam’s lips twitched. “It’s understandable, considering. And by the time we all handle the plane tomorrow, there probably won’t be any usable fingerprints on it anyway.”

Jade waved her arms to the door, “Well, we’re burning daylight, gentlemen. Let’s get a move on.”

CHAPTER 17

The most trusted warriors are employed to procure food for the manyatta.
If they need to, they are allowed to take it with force.
Their mission demands it, for the continuing good of the Maasai.
These warriors are called embikas.

—The Traveler

DESPITE EVERYONE’S BEST efforts at throwing together supplies, they didn’t exit Parklands until midafternoon. Since they wanted to avoid driving to Sam’s hangar for fuel, most of the time was spent purchasing overpriced cans of gasoline at the various supply stores or rounding up empty cans to collect whatever they could salvage from the plane. Sam’s tool kit was back at his hangar, but Avery, deciding he needed one himself to maintain his new car, purchased a set. Jade took charge of food, water, cots, and tents. She brought out her Winchester and ammunition, and Avery added his Enfield to the stock. No one intended to shoot anything, but then, no one ever intended to get attacked either.

Avery insisted on being allowed to drive his own car and opened it up to a blazing 60 miles per hour on the better stretches of road. There weren’t many of them, as Sam noted after bouncing out of the seat over one particularly bad rut. Still, they made the south end of Lake Naivasha in decent time and had enough daylight to get to the edge of Hell’s Gate before nightfall. The last three miles came at sunset. They might have missed the plane, but for the signal fire maintained by the Maasai on watch.

Jade greeted Tajewo and introduced Sam and Avery. Sam wanted to examine the plane right away by flashlight, but was voted down by a large yawn from Jade. “She’ll keep till morning, Sam. You need to sleep right now.”

With such a clear night and a palette of stars overhead, Sam suggested they forget the tent and just sleep on the cots. Jade, mindful of Sam’s recent bout with malaria, pounded two tent poles in the ground on either side of his cot and draped a mosquito net over him.

“Aren’t you kind of closing the barn door after the horse already got out?” Sam asked.

“Always a good idea in case there’s another horse still in the barn,” Jade replied. “You were lucky last time. You might not be so lucky the next. Use the blasted netting.”

“And what about you and Avery?”

“Mosquitoes don’t bite me, but I plan to sleep downwind of the campfire smoke,” said Jade. “That’ll keep the nasty little buggers away.”

“And I intend to sleep in the backseat of my car,” called Avery from the Hupmobile. He’d tossed the rest of the supplies from the back into the front seat. “I’ll drape a net over the open window. Now if you don’t mind, good night.”

Jade woke just before dawn and, yawning, opened the driver’s door to pull out a coffeepot, coffee, and a thick mitt. She filled the pot from their water supply, measured in the coffee grounds, and put the pot on the fire’s coals to boil. Then she returned to the car and fetched flour, baking soda, a can of lard, and a pan. Jade cut in enough lard to turn the flour and soda into a mealy mix, then added water slowly until she had a stiff dough. She pulled off sections of dough and spread them around on the pan to make a dozen biscuits. Next, she arranged a bed of rocks on the coals near the coffeepot and set the biscuit pan on top. A lid on the pan and some coals on the lid, and Jade had a working Dutch oven going as the sun rose.

On her final supply run, Jade got her first good look at Sam’s plane since her return. For a moment, the sight before her made her stop dead in her tracks, slack-jawed.
Well, it could be worse.
She rummaged in the supplies, brought out a slab of bacon, pulled her knife, and sliced off offerings for a final pan. At the fragrant scent of frying bacon, both Sam and Avery stirred. Jade kept her eyes on the bacon, pretending she hadn’t even noticed what had happened to the plane.

“Mmm,” said Sam as he stretched on his cot. “Something smells great. Nice to have a trail boss who cooks, too. Will our new friends join us?”

Jade shook her head. “A runner brought in some calabashes of sour milk earlier.” She checked the biscuits. “Breakfast is almost ready. Tell Avery to get his sorry backside out of bed.” She stirred down the coffee grounds and set the pot aside to brew.

“Will do.” Sam pulled aside the mosquito netting and sat up. “And how’s my … What in Sam Hill happened to my plane?” He quickly scrambled off the cot for a better look.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Jade said as she squatted by the fire, still holding the bacon pan. “I think they meant you an honor, Sam.” She looked up to see how he’d take this last offering. Setting the pan aside where it wouldn’t burn, she stood and went to his side. “Looks like a good fix, too. I like the red color.”