The Dark of the Sun - Smith Wilbur - Страница 45

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the rifle and pointed it. Too dark to see the sights, but at that range

he couldn't miss. Bruce drew his breath softly, filling his lungs, ready

to shoot and run.

"Bruce?" Shermaine's voice, frightened, almost a whisper.

He threw up the rifle barrel. God, that was close. He had nearly killed

her.

"Yes, I'm here." His own voice was scratchy with the shock of

realization.

"Oh, there you are."

"What the hell are you doing out of the camp?" he demanded furiously as

anger replaced his shock.

"I'm sorry, Bruce, I came to see if you were all right. You were gone

such a long time."

"Well, get back to the camp, and don't try any more tricks like that."

There was a long silence, and then she spoke softly, unable to keep the

hurt out of her tone.

"I brought you something to eat. I thought you'd be hungry. I'm sorry if

I did wrong." She came to him, stooped and placed something on the

ground in front of him. Then she turned and was gone.

"Shermaine." He wanted her back, but the only reply was the fading

rustle of the grass and then silence. He was alone again.

He picked up the plate of food.

You fool, he thought. You stupid, ignorant, thoughtless fool.

You'll lose her, and you'll have deserved it. You deserve everything

you've had, and more.

You never learn, do you, Curry? You never learn that there is a penalty

for selfishness and for thoughtlessness.

He looked down at the plate in his hands. Bully beef and sliced onion,

bread and cheese.

Yes, I have learned, he answered himself with sudden determination.

I will not spoil this, this thing that is between this girl and me.

That was the last time; now I am a man I will put away childish things,

like temper and selfpity.

He ate the food, suddenly aware of his hunger. He ate quickly, wolfing

it. Then he stood up and walked back to the camp.

A sentry challenged him on the perimeter and Bruce answered with

alacrity. At night his gendarmes were very quick on the trigger; the

challenge was an unusual courtesy.

"It is unwise to go alone into the forest in the darkness," the sentry

reprimanded him.

"Why?" Bruce felt his mood changing. The depression evaporated.

"It is unwise," repeated the man vaguely.

"The spirits?" Bruce teased him delicately.

"An aunt of my sister's husband disappeared not a short throw of a spear

from my hut. There was no trace, no shout, nothing. I was there. It is

not a matter for doubt," said the man with dignity.

"A lion perhaps?" Bruce prodded him.

"If you say so, then it is so. I know what I know. But I say only that

there is no wisdom in defying the custom of the land."

Suddenly touched by the man's concern for him, Bruce dropped a hand on

to his shoulder and gripped it in the old (expression of affection.

"I will remember. I did it without thinking. He walked into the camp.

The incident had confirmed something he had vaguely suspected, but in

which previously he had felt no interest. The men liked him. A

hundred similar indications of this fact he had only half noted, not

caring one way or the other. But now it gave him intense pleasure, fully

compensating for the loneliness he had just experienced.

He walked past the little group of men round the cooking fire to where

the Ford stood at the head of the convoy.

Peering through the side window he could make out Shermaine's

blanket-wrapped form on the back seat. He tapped on the glass and she

sat up and rolled down the window.

"Yes?" she asked coolly.

"Thank you for the food."

"It is nothing." The slightest hint of warmth in her voice.

"Shermaine, sometimes I say things I do not mean. You startled me. I

nearly shot you."

"It was my fault. I should not have followed you."

"I was rude he persisted.

"Yes." She laughed now. That husky little chuckle. "You were

rude but with good reason. We shall forget it." She placed her hand on

his arm. "You must rest, you haven't slept for two days."

"Will you ride in the Ford with me tomorrow to show that I am forgiven?"

"of course," she nodded.

"Good night, Shermaine."

"Good night, Bruce," No, Bruce decided as he spread his blankets beside

the fire, I am not alone. Not any more.

What about breakfast, boss?"

"They can eat on the road. Give them a tin of bully each - we've wasted

enough time on this trip." The sky was paling and pinking above the

forest. It was light enough to read the dial of his wristwatch. Twenty

minutes to five.

"Get them moving, Ruffy. If we make Msapa Junction before dark we can

drive through the night. Home for breakfast tomorrow."

"Now you're talking, boss." Ruffy clapped his helmet on to his head and

went off to rouse the men who lay in the road beside the trucks.

Shermaine was asleep. Bruce leaned into the window of the Ford and

studied her face. A wisp of hair lay over her mouth, rising and falling

with her breathing. It tickled her nose and in her sleep it twitched

like a rabbit.

Bruce felt an almost unbearable pang of tenderness towards her.

With one finger he lifted the hair off her face.

Then he smiled at himself If you can feel like this before breakfast,

then you've got it in a bad way, he told himself.

Do you know something, he retorted. I like the feeling.

"Hey, you lazy wench!" He pulled the lobe of her ear.

"Time to wake up." It was almost half past five before the convoy got

under way. It had taken that long to bully and cajole the sleep out of

sixty men and get them into the lorries. This morning Bruce did not find

the delay unbearable. He had managed to find time for four hours" sleep

during the night. Four hours was not nearly enough to make up for the

previous two days.

Now he felt light-headed, a certain unreal quality of gaiety overlaying

his exhaustion, a carnival spirit. There was no longer the same urgency,

for the road to Elisabethville was clear and not too long. Home for

breakfast tomorrow!

"We'll be at the bridge in a little under an hour." He glanced

sideways at Shermaine.

"You've left a guard on it?"

"Ten men," answered Bruce. "We'll pick them up almost without stopping,

and then the next stop, room 201, Grand Hotel Leopold II, Avenue du

Kasai." He grinned in anticipation.

"A bath so deep it will slop over on to the floor, so hot it will take

five minutes to get into it. Clean clothes. A steak that thick, with

French salad and a bottle of Liebfraumilch."

"For breakfast!" protested

Shermaine.

"For breakfast," Bruce agreed happily. He was silent for a while,

savouring the idea. The road ahead of him was tiger-striped with the

shadows of the trees thrown by the low sun. The air that blew in through

the missing windscreen was cool and clean-smelling. He felt good. The

responsibility of command lay lightly on his shoulders this

morning; a pretty girl beside him, a golden morning, the horror of the

last few days half-forgotten, - they might have been going on a picnic.

"What are you thinking?" he asked suddenly. She was very quiet beside

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