She settled down on the rug with Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, a book that she had been trying to finish for the last week, occasionally glancing up from the page to scan the northern sky.
David Abrahams was almost as enchanted with flying as he was with running. That was what had brought him and Shasa together in the beginning. Though Abe Abrahams had worked for Centaine and been one of her closest personal friends for almost all of David's lifetime, the two boys had really only noticed each other when they went up to university in the same year. Since then they had become inseparable and were founder members of the university flying club, for which Centaine had provided a Tiger Moth trainer.
David was studying law, and it was tacitly understood that when he qualified he would join his father in Windhoek, which meant naturally that he would become one of Centaine's people. She had observed the boy carefully over the years and found no vice in him, so she approved of his friendship with Shasa.
David was taller than his father, with a lean runner's body and an attractively ugly, humorous face, thick curly hair and a large beaky nose which he had inherited from Abe. His best features were his dark Semitic eyes and long sensitive hands, with which he was now manipulating the control column of the Dragon Rapide. He flew with an almost religious dedication, like a priest performing the ritual of some arcane religion. He treated the aircraft as though it were a beautiful living creature, whereas Shasa flew like an engineer, with understanding and great skill, but without David's mystic passion.
David brought that same passion to running and many of the other things in his existence. This was one of the reasons that Shasa loved him so dearly. He spiced Shasa's own life, enhanced the pleasure which Shasa derived from the things they did together. These past weeks might have been dull and anti-climactic without David.
With Centaine's blessing, withheld strenuously for almost a year and then mysteriously given at the last moment, the two of them had taken the Rapide and flown to the H'ani Mine the day after they had written their final examinations.
At the mine Dr Twenty-man-Jones had arranged for two four-ton trucks to be waiting for them, fully equipped with camping equipment, camp staff, trackers, skinners and a k. one of the company prospectors, a man thoroughly versed in the ways of the wild, in bushcraft and hunting big dangerous game, was in charge of the expedition.
Their destination was the Caprivi Strip, that remote ribbon of wilderness, between Angola and Bechuanaland.
Entry to this area was severely restricted and hunting was forbidden except in exceptional circumstances. Enviously it was referred to by other sportsmen as the private hunting preserve of the cabinet ministers of the South African government. Blaine Malcomess had arranged entry permits and hunting licences for them.
Under the grizzled old prospector's quiet instruction and firm hand the two young men had come to a closer understanding of, and respect for, the wilderness and the fascinating spectrum of life it contained. In a few weeks he had taught them something of man's place in the fragile balance of nature and instilled in them the principles of ethical hunting.
The death of each individual animal is sad but inevitable.
However, the death of the forest or swamp or plain that supports the entire species is tragedy, he explained. if the kings and noblemen of Europe had not been avid huntsmen, the stag and the boar and the bear would be extinct today.
it was the huntsmen who saved the forest from the axe and the plough of the peasants. And they listened attentively at the camp-fire as he explained. Then who hunt for love of the creatures they pursue will protect the breeding females and young from the poachers and save the forests from the goats and cattle. No, my young friends, Robin Hood was a dirty poacher. The sheriff of Nottingham was the real hero. So they spent enchanted days in the bush, leaving camp on foot while it was still dark and returning dog-weary after the sun had set. Each of them killed his lion, and experienced the hunter's sadness and elation at the deed, and came out determined to preserve that wild and beautiful country from the predations of unthinking, greedy men. And Shasa, blessed by the chance of birth with the promise of great wealth and influence, came to realize in some small measure how much of that responsibility could one day be his.
The women had been superfluous, as David had warned they would be.
However, Shasa had insisted on bringing them, one for himself and one for David.
Shasa's choice was almost thirty years old. The best tunes are played on an old fiddle, he assured David. She was also a divorcee. 'I never break in my own polo ponies., She had big blue eyes, a ripe red mouth and a pneumatic figure, but was not burdened by an unnecessary amount of brain.
David nicknamed her Jumbo,, Because, he explained, she's so thick that two elephants could walk across her skull side by side., Shasa had prevailed upon Jumbo to bring a friend for David, and she had selected a tall dark lady, another divorcee, with trailing locks; her thin arms were loaded with bangles, her long neck with strings of beads. She affected an ivory cigarette-holder and had a smouldering intense gaze but spoke seldom, then usually to ask for another gin.
David dubbed her the Camel for her insatiable thirst.
However, the two of them turned out to be ideal, for while they delivered what was expected of them with vigour and expertise when called upon to do so, for the rest they were quite content to remain in camp all day, and in the evening demanded little attention and made no attempt to sabotage the conversation around the camp-fire by joining in.
That was probably the most enjoyable holiday I will ever spend., Shasa leaned back in the pilot's seat of the Rapide and stared dreamily ahead, content to let David, in the copilot's seat, do the flying. 'But it isn't over yet! He glanced at his wristwatch. Another hour before we reach Cape Town. Keep her on course, he told David, and unfastened his safety-belt.
where are you going2 David demanded.
I will not embarrass you by replying to that question, but do not be surprised when the Camel comes up to the cockpit to join you. I really am worried about you. David looked grave.
You're going to rupture something if you go on like this. Never felt stronger, Shasa assured him as he wriggled out of the seat.
Not you, dear boy, it's jumbo I'm worried about. David shook his head sadly, and Shasa chuckled, slapped his shoulder and ducked into the rear cabin.
The Camel looked up at him with that dark fanatical gaze and spilled a little gin and tonic down the front of her blouse, while jumbo giggled and wriggled her fat little rump across the seat to make room for Shasa. beside
