Treasure of the Golden Cheetah (15 page)

They crossed a tributary of the Una River on a bridge made of haphazardly stacked stones. Jade noted that the forest here was festooned with moss just as on Marsabit. Vines, some as thick as cables, bound the wild poplar and a gnarled reddish tree with tiny pink flower spikes. Water dripped off the leaves as the crew brushed them, leaving the leaders soaked. Jade was happily drier at the column’s tail. The air was rich with decaying humus, and thick moss carpeted their path. Hornbills brayed and quacked from the treetops.

But excepting the birds, the group made so much commotion, it scared away any wildlife. Still, Jade kept her eyes busy searching for a shifting form or shadow that would signify a boar or one of the mountain’s elephants. She longed to see one as she had on Mount Marsabit, a ghostly gray giant hidden in the shadows. Deep, round, water-filled footprints and splintered limbs marked the pachyderms’ passing.

The forest hid everything well, including the village. Their first hints of its presence were the birdlike voices of the children. The conical huts melted into the tree trunks, making it difficult to ascertain the community’s size. Even the gardens imitated the natural forest.

Their group made quite a show entering the settlement. No one was surprised by them, since Harry had seen fit to send Zakayo and one of his men up yesterday afternoon to forewarn everyone. It gave the elder a chance to put on his best furs and for his wives and daughters to prepare a feast. But Biscuit’s entrance as he padded softly between Jade and Jelani caught everyone’s attention and lent a higher level of importance to the gathering.

Their host, Sina, was seated on a chair of sorts, and Jade knew then what had happened to some of the kitchen cabinets in the farmhouse. His short white hair looked snowy in the dappled sunlight. Harry went first to greet the old man, who rose with all the dignity that age and aching joints could allow. The elder spat on his right hand, then grasped Harry’s in the Chagga’s traditional greeting.

“Jambo!”
Harry said, and proceeded to ask after the man’s health and the health of his family and livestock. Zakayo translated into Machame, the Chagga’s own language, and gave back the replies. Harry presented Sina with the drinking goblet and the snake armband. The old man accepted them graciously, but without any effusive thanks, as though a man of his stature received such gifts daily. Formalities out of the way, Harry got around to business. He explained the large cameras and received permission for Budendorfer and Brown to film the village.

“I have heard that you know many stories of long ago,” said Harry. “Stories told by those who lived here before the Chagga came to the mountain.”

Sina nodded, his lids half lowered, a pleased smile gracing his weathered face.

“We would like to hear one of those stories,” began Harry.

Julian sat on one of the camp chairs to Harry’s right. “Ask him about Menelik.”

Harry put his hand out to the side, halting the director’s impatience. “In good time,” he said. “One doesn’t rush these people. It’s rude.” With a smile, he addressed the elder. “We ask you to tell us of the great king who came and was buried on this mountain.”

Sina closed his eyes and tilted his head back, as though pulling deep into his memory and that of his ancestors. “First, I must tell you of how man first sinned against Ngai. Once, God spoke as I speak to you.”

Sina uttered a few sentences, then paused as Zakayo translated. Harry, in his turn, translated the Swahili version into English. He hadn’t gotten past the tale of the first sin when Mr. Julian interrupted.

“I don’t care about sins except to film them. I want to know about Menelik!”

Harry smiled at Sina, who’d opened his eyes to see what this new speaker wanted, and muttered, “Keep quiet, Mr. Julian, or you won’t hear anything.” Then Harry nodded at Sina to continue.

Sina recounted the wonderful garden God had given and the edict not to eat the yam lest the people die. Jade listened with rapt fascination as the ancient tale of the fall in the garden was retold, but with an authority as if it were a firsthand account. She wondered if this was just the Chagga’s version given to them by missionaries or their own, more ancient tale. Whichever it was, Sina quickly followed it with his own telling of mankind’s first murder.

“And so even now, when blood is spilled, seven cows, seven goats, and one daughter to be a servant is the price for the death of the man.” The old man held out his new cup.

An old crone, probably his chief wife, yelled to two young women, who were barely in their teens. “Rehema, Bahati.” The two jumped up and one, Rehema, quickly filled the cup with a banana beer while the other went inside the hut and came back out with roasted plantains and tender yams.

Sina offered the same beverage to Julian and Harry, who both politely declined. None was offered to Jade, who would be considered Harry’s woman. Sina barely cast a glance in her direction, but his gaze repeatedly came back to rest on Biscuit, who lay at her feet, his tongue out, panting. Nearly everyone else, except for Cynthia, McAvy, and Hall, who stayed in character, had gone off wandering through the village. Budendorfer kept his camera trained on the actors and Brown filmed Sina.

Jade spotted Lwiza standing off to her left. She seemed more interested in watching the village women. Talmadge and Murdock had both accosted one of the village’s young men and were attempting to try their hand at throwing his spear. Murdock’s barely stuck in the ground, but the more muscular Talmadge managed to penetrate a plantain tree.

Wells followed Bebe at a discreet distance as she approached one of the younger women. Jade thought she recognized the girl, a bit of a belle with high cheekbones and an engaging smile who’d quickly discovered the American women were willing to pay her for all sorts of ordinary household items. In fact, at least three of the Chagga women who sold produce, woven mats, or fired-clay beads were regular visitors to their camp.

Pearl called to the one who’d brought out the beer. “Rehema.” She pointed to the woman’s arm wires, coils of copper, and offered her a canister of lip rouge in trade, probably the one Jade had found on her cot with the sock snake. While Jade watched, the girl removed an arm wire and snatched up the paint pot. Pearl mimed how to apply it and Rehema spread a liberal amount on her lips.

Immediately, the other Chagga woman, the young belle, grabbed the metal tube from Rehema’s hands and shrieked in triumph. The transformation of Rehema’s face was instantaneous as hatred flashed from her eyes. Her reddened lips pulled back in a snarl, the thick color staining her teeth. She resembled something feral and predatory.

Pearl offered her arm wires back, but Rehema would have no part of it. Instead, her right hand shot out, pointing to the thief as she broke loose in a torrent of Machame. Jade had no idea what she was saying, but judging by the horrified looks on the other Chagga’s faces, it was not the equivalent of “I’m going to tell.” Pearl tried without success to offer the wronged woman something else from her bag as an appeasement.

“Lloyd,” yelled Julian to the cameraman, “I want this on film!”

Brown obliged by shifting the camera from the elder and pointing it at the two women. Pearl, frightened by Rehema’s rage, backed up until she stood beside the camera.

The belle’s face contorted in horror as her eyes rolled back and she fell to the ground sobbing. She crawled to the offended woman and returned the lip rouge, her voice pleading, but Rehema wouldn’t take it. The belle, trembling with fear, staggered to her feet and wailed in terror. Rehema stopped shrieking. Her eyes narrowed, and she ran towards one of the warriors and grabbed his knife, slashing at him when he attempted to retrieve it.

“This is tremendous!” shouted Julian. “Real action.” He ran towards Brown, who was cranking furiously.

“She’s going to kill that girl,” yelled Jade. She’d already jumped up and raced towards the belle, shoving her towards a hut.

The warrior wanted no part of the crazed Rehema and left her still holding his knife. Rehema looked around for her enemy and saw her as she ducked into the hut. Baring her teeth in a feral grimace, Rehema started towards the hut, the knife raised. Jade stepped in front of the opening. Rehema laughed and raised her knife higher, a look of triumph in her eyes.

“Biscuit, take her down!” Jade called as she pointed to Rehema.

Biscuit’s long legs stretched out as he covered the distance in seconds. He reared up and thrust his front paws on the woman’s stomach. Rehema collapsed in on herself, dropping the knife as the big cheetah pushed her to the ground.

Jade started forward. “Stop her, Hascombe!” Julian yelled. “I can’t have her in the picture.”

Harry grabbed her around the waist and hauled her off her feet.

“Let me go, Harry,” she growled, and jabbed her elbow into his ribs.

“Ouch! Dammit, Jade. Stop. They’ve got her.”

By that time, Hall and McAvy had reached the native woman. They each grabbed an arm and pulled her up.

“Cut!” shouted Julian. “Wonderful! What a scene.”

Jade jerked free of Harry’s grasp and went towards the men to retrieve both her cheetah and the knife. She returned the weapon to the warrior, then took Biscuit by his collar. Rehema immediately comprehended whom she had to blame for stopping her. She shrieked at Jade, hurling her best invectives. Then she stopped as suddenly as she’d begun and hung limp in the men’s grasp.

“Set her down,” said Harry. “She’s quiet now.”

“What the Sam Hill was all that about?” asked Murdock.

“I’m not sure,” said Harry, “but I think that woman, Rehema, cursed the one who stole her trinket.”

“Cursed her?” asked Jade. “What type of curse? No children? Or a face full of pimples?”

“Death curse. Sicken and die. Zakayo told me about this on my last trip here. Gets to be quite a problem with the women,” said Harry, pointing to the angry native woman who now sat hugging her knees on the ground. “She probably wasn’t going to stab the little thief. No need to. Unless the one she cursed can appease the right ancestral spirits, she’ll die.”

“How horrid,” said Pearl. “I’m sorry I gave her the lip paint and started it.”

“Maybe I can make it up to her,” said Bebe. She picked up her own shoulder bag and motioned for Zakayo to join her as she hesitantly approached the woman.

“So if she wasn’t going to kill that girl, what was she doing with the knife?” asked Jade.

“Ah,” said Harry. “Well, that’s where it gets interesting. The curse is bad enough, but it can be undone if you have enough time and goats to sacrifice to the ancestors. But if the one spouting the curse should go and commit suicide . . .” He flung his hands out. “Well, then the other one’s doomed. That kind can’t be lifted. I’ve heard these curses and suicides happen all too often among the women.”

Jade shook her head. “What a tragic situation.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” said Harry. “I may not know any Machame, Jade, but I’d bet my rifle that she just cursed you, too.”

CHAPTER 10

—The Traveler

“YOU MUST BLOCK THIS CURSE, SIMBA JIKE.” JELANI WALKED BESIDE Jade for the moment, the path wide enough at that point to admit two people.

“I don’t believe in curses, Jelani.”

“
You
do not have to believe. That is the danger. This woman’s anger will reach her ancestors. They will come for you unless you appease them.”

Jade stopped and faced the young man. She’d watched him grow from a boy to a youth on the cusp of manhood, eager to prove his bravery, and she’d seen the results of that bravery when he cut his own heel to escape from a slaver’s chain. She’d even taken a hand in his education, hoping he’d become a leader, a voice for the Kikuyu. She hadn’t planned for him to become a
mondo-mogo
, or healer, but she’d accepted it as a way for him to gain his own people’s trust. But Jade drew the line at having him practice incantations over her in a ritual animal sacrifice, the accepted mode of placating tribal ancestors.

“I have enough trouble appeasing my
living
relatives, Jelani. I have no intention of taking on anyone else’s
dead
ones.” Her stomach rumbled. “I’d like to get back so I can appease my stomach.”

The path narrowed again up ahead, and Jade motioned for Jelani to precede her. Biscuit padded between them and Jade brought up the rear, making sure there were no stragglers. She heard the musical rush of the Una’s tributary ahead and wished she had time to sit by it and watch the animals come out of hiding so she could photograph them. She’d have to ask Harry, maybe demand it. Most of the time she had nothing to do in the camp. She didn’t like being inactive, and out here she needed something to occupy her mind as well. Otherwise her thoughts kept drifting back to Sam and what to do about his marriage proposal. She missed him, but she hated feeling controlled.