Forest of the Pygmies(10)
As that was going on, Mushaha fired his pistol into the air, and the roars of the lions faded into the distance. The guards lighted torches, sheathed their weapons, and set off to explore the area around the camp. By then the elephants were in an uproar, and their keepers were trying to calm them before they escaped their corrals and stampeded through the camp. Crazed by the smell of the lions, the three pygmy chimps were chattering and clinging to the first person who came by. Borobá had leaped onto Alexander, who was ineffectually trying to pull him off his head by tugging his tail. In all the confusion, no one had any idea what had happened.
Joel had run outside yelling, his heart in his mouth.
"Snakes! A python!"
"Lions," Kate corrected.
Joel stopped short, bewildered.
"It's not snakes?" He hesitated.
"No, only lions," Kate repeated.
"And you woke me up for that?" sputtered the photographer.
"For God's sake, man, cover your privates!" joked Angie, who had appeared in her pajamas.
Only then did Joel realize that he was stark naked; he backed off toward his tent, covering himself with both hands.
Michael Mushaha returned shortly afterward with the news that they had found the tracks of several lions around the compound, and that Kate and Nadia's tent had been ripped.
"This is the first time anything like this has happened in the camp. Those animals have never attacked before," he commented, worried.
"They weren't attacking us!" Nadia interrupted
"Oh. So it was only a courtesy call," said Kate, indignant.
"They came to say hello! If you hadn't started shrieking, Kate, we would still be talking!"
Nadia turned and took refuge in her tent, which she had to crawl into since only two poles were left standing.
"Pay no attention to her, it's just adolescence. It will pass, everyone gets over it," was the opinion of Joel, who had reappeared wrapped in a towel.
The others stood around talking, and no one went back to sleep. They stirred up the fires and left the torches lighted. Borobá and the three pygmy chimps, all four stiff with fright, took cover as far away from Nadia's tent as possible, where they could still smell the scent of the beasts. Shortly after, they heard the winging bats announcing the dawn, then the cooks beginning to brew coffee and fry bacon and eggs for breakfast.
"I've never seen you so nervous. You're getting soft in your old age, Grandmother," said Alexander, handing the first cup of coffee to Kate.
"Do not call me Grandmother, Alexander."
"I won't, if you won't call me Alexander. My name is Jaguar, at least to my family and friends."
"Aggh. Don't be such a pest," she replied, burning her lips with the first sip of the steaming beverage.
CHAPTER THREE
The Missionary
THE SAFARI STAFF LOADED THE equipment into Land Rovers and then by elephant accompanied the International Geographic party to where Angie's plane waited in an open area, two miles from the camp. For the visitors it was their last ride. The haughty Kobi, who had carried Nadia all that week, sensed the parting and seemed downcast, as were all the guests. Borobá, too, was dejected; he was leaving behind the three chimps that had become good friends; for the first time in his life, he had to admit that there were monkeys almost as clever as he was.
As they approached the Cessna Caravan, they could see the signs of its years of use and the many miles it had flown. A logo on the side announced its arrogant name: Super Hawk. Angie had painted the head, eyes, beak, and claws of a bird of prey on the plane, but over time the paint had flaked and in the shimmering morning light the vehicle much more closely resembled a pathetic molting hen. The travelers shivered at the thought that it was their only means of transportation—all except Nadia, because compared to the ancient, rusty little plane her father flew around the Amazon, Angie's Super Hawk looked super indeed. The same band of ill-behaved mandrills that had drunk Kate's vodka were squatting on the wings of the metal bird busily grooming each other, picking off lice with great concentration, the way humans often do. In many places in the world, Kate had seen the same loving ritual of delousing that united families and created bonds among friends. Sometimes children got in line, ranging from the smallest to the largest, to inspect one another's heads. She smiled, thinking how in the United States the mere word "lice" evoked shudders of horror. Angie began lobbing rocks and insults at the baboons, to which they responded with Olympian scorn, refusing to budge an inch until the elephants were practically on top of them.
Mushaha handed Angie a vial of animal tranquilizer.
"This is the last one I have. Can you bring me a box on your next trip?" he asked.
"Of course."
"Take this one as a sample; there are several different brands, and you might get the wrong one. This is the one I need."
"No problem," said Angie, putting the vial in the plane's emergency kit for safekeeping.
?
They had finished stowing the luggage in the plane when a man no one had ever seen before burst out of the nearby undergrowth. He was wearing blue jeans, worn midcalf boots, and a filthy cotton shirt. On his head was a cloth hat, and on his back a knapsack onto which he had tied a clay pot black with soot and a machete. He was a short man, thin and bony and bald. His skin was very pale, his eyebrows dark and bushy, and the lenses of his eyeglasses were thick as bottle glass.