The Quest - Smith Wilbur (читать лучшие читаемые книги TXT) 📗
'I fear we will lose many more men and horses if we stay in this pestilential place,' Taita worried. 'The grazing is sour and rank and the horses will not recover their condition on it. Our store of dhurra is
almost exhausted, hardly enough for the men, let alone the beastsi We must find more salubrious surroundings in which to recuperate.' He called Nakonto to him, and asked, 'Is there higher ground near here?' I Nakonto consulted his cousin before he replied. 'There is a range of hills many days' travel to the east. There, the grass is sweet, and in the evenings cool winds come down from the mountains. We were wont to graze our cattle there in the hot season,' he said.
'Show us the way,' Taita said.
They left early the next morning. When Taita was mounted on Windsmoke, he reached down, took Fenn's arm and swung her up behind him. From her expression he could tell that the experience had terrified her, but she wrapped both arms round his waist, pressed her face to his back and clung to him like a tick. Taita talked soothingly to her and before they had ridden a league she had begun to relax her death-grip and, from her elevated position, to look at her surroundings. Another league and she was chirruping with pleasure and interest. If he did not respond at once she drummed her little fist on his back and cried his name, 'Taita! Taita,' then pointed out whatever had caught her attention.
'What?'
'Tree,' he replied, or 'Horses,' or 'Bird. Big bird.'
'Big bird,' she repeated. She was quick, and her ear was true. It needed only one or two repetitions for her to reproduce the sound and inflection perfectly, and once she had it she did not lose it. By the third day she was stringing words into simple sentences, 'Big bird fly. Big bird fly fast.'
'Yes, yes. You're so clever, Fenn,' he told her. 'It's almost as if you are starting to remember something you once knew well but had forgotten.
Now it's fast coming back to you, isn't it?'
She listened attentively, then picked out the words she had already learnt, and repeated them with a flourish: 'Yes, yes. Clever Fenn. Fast, coming fast.' Then she looked back at the foal, Whirlwind, who followed the mare: 'Little horse coming fast!'
The foal fascinated her. She found the name 'Whirlwind' difficult, so she called him Little Horse. As soon as they dismounted to make camp, she shouted, 'Come, Little Horse.' The foal seemed to enjoy her company as much as she did his. He came to her and allowed her to drape an arm round his neck and attach herself to him as though they were twins joined in the womb. She saw the men feeding dhurra to the other horses, so she stole some, tried to feed it to him and was angry when he refused.
'Bad horse,' she scolded. 'Bad Little Horse.'
She had soon learnt the names of all the men, beginning with Meren
who had given her the ribbon and stood high in her favour. The others competed for her attention. They saved her titbits from their frugal rations and taught her the words of their marching songs. Taita put a stop to this when she repeated some of the more salacious choruses. They found small gifts for her, bright feathers, porcupine quills and pretty stones they picked out of the sands of the dry riverbeds they crossed.
But the progress of the column was slow. Neither the men nor the horses could make a full day's march. They began late and halted early, with frequent stops. Another three troopers died of the swamp-sickness, and the others had hardly the strength to dig their graves. Among the horses Windsmoke and her foal fared best. The spear wound in the mare's hindquarters had healed cleanly and, despite the rigours of the march, she had kept her milk and was still able to feed Whirlwind.
They camped one afternoon when the horizon was turbid with dust and heat haze, but in the dawn the cool of the night had cleared the air and they could make out in the distance ahead a low blue line of hills. As they rode towards them the hills grew taller and the details more inviting. On the eighth day after they had left the swamps, they reached the foothills of a great massif. The slopes were lightly forested and scored with ravines down which tumbled streams and bounding waterfalls. Following a stream, they climbed laboriously upwards and came out at last on to a vast plateau.
There, the air was fresher and cooler. They filled their lungs with relief and pleasure, and looked about them. They saw groves of fine trees standing on grass savannahs. Herds of antelope and striped wild ponies grazed in multitudes upon the pastures. There was no sign of human presence. It was an enchanted and inviting wilderness.
Taita selected a campsite with meticulous consideration of every aspect; prevailing winds and the direction of the sun, the proximity of running water and pasture for the horses. They cut poles and thatching grass, then built comfortable living huts. They erected a zareeba, a stockade of stout poles with sharpened points, around the settlement, and divided off one end into a separate pen for the horses and mules.
Each evening they brought them in from the pasture and confined them for the night, to keep them safe from marauding lions and savage humans.
On the bank of the stream, where the earth was rich and fertile, they cleared land and turned the earth. They built another sturdy fence of thornbushes and poles to keep out the grazing animals. Grain by grain, Taita sifted through the bags of dhurra seeds, picking out by their aura those that were healthy and discarding any that were diseased or damaged.
They planted them in the prepared earth, and Taita built a shadoof to lift the water from the river to irrigate the seed beds. Within days, the first green shoots had unfurled from the soil and in a few months the grain would ripen. Meren placed a perpetual guard over the fields, troopers armed with drums to drive off the horses and any wild apes. They built guard fires around the zareeba and kept them burning night and day.
Each morning the horses and mules were hobbled and turned loose upon the rich grazing. They gorged on it and swiftly regained condition.
Game was plentiful upon the plateau. Every few days Meren rode out with a party of his hunters and returned with a large bag of antelope and wild fowl. They wove fish traps from reeds, and placed them at the head of the river pools. The catch was abundant, and the men feasted each night on venison and fresh catfish. Fenn astonished them all with her appetite for meat.
Taita was familiar with most of the trees, shrubs and plants that grew on the plateau. He had encountered them during his years in the highlands of Ethiopia. He pointed out to the foraging parties those that were nutritious, and under his guidance they collected wild spinach along the banks of the river. They also dug up the roots of a euphorbiaceous plant that grew in profusion, and boiled them into a rich porridge that replaced dhurra as their staple.
In the cool, sweet airs of early morning, Taita and Fenn went into the forest to gather baskets of leaves and berries, roots and slabs of fresh wet bark that had medicinal properties. When the heat became unpleasant they returned to the camp, and boiled some of their harvest, or dried it in the sun, and pounded other items into paste or powder. With the potions they produced Taita treated the ailments of men and horses.
In particular, there was the boiled extract of the bark of a thorny shrub that was so bitter and astringent on the tongue it made the eyes smart and took the breath away. Taita administered copious draughts to those who were still suffering the symptoms of swamp-sickness. Fenn stood by and encouraged them when they gagged and gasped. 'Good Shabako. Clever Shabako.' None could resist her blandishments. They swallowed the bitter draught and kept it down. The cure was quick and complete.
