Louren looked at me For a second or two he did not see me, then his eyes focused.
‘Hey?’ he said, puzzled.
‘Why did you say that, as though you knew?’
‘Did I?’ he asked. ‘I don’t know. I meant - it must have been.’
He moved on slowly down the passage, stepping over the wind-rows of dead men, peering in each recess as he passed, and I followed him slowly. My mind was thrashing around like a corralled bull, charging madly at each fleeting idea that crossed its path, spinning back on its track and charging again. I knew there was no chance of it being capable of calm, logical thought until this first surging excitement waned.
Of one thing, and one thing only, I was certain. This was big. This was something to rank with Leakey’s discoveries at Olduvai Gorge, something to startle and dazzle the world of archaeology. Something that I had prayed for and dreamed about for twenty years.
We had reached the end of the passage. The end wall was another panel of sandstone, but this was decorated. A swirling, stylized engraving of the sun image. Three feet in diameter, it looked like a Catherine wheel with the rays radiating from its circumference. The image evoked in me a strange sense of reverential awe, a hushed feeling of the spirit such as I experience sometimes in a synagogue or the cloisters of a Christian cathedral. Louren and I stood and stared at the image for a long time, then suddenly he turned and looked back to the bricked-in wall 155 feet away.
‘Is that all?’ he asked, and there was an irritable tone to his voice. ‘Just this passage and pots and old bones? There must be something more!’
It came as a shock to me to realize that he was actually disappointed. For me the universe could hold no richer prize, this was the culminating moment of my life - and Louren was disappointed. I felt anger start to hiss and bubble within me.
‘What the hell do you want?’ I demanded, ‘Gold and diamonds and ivory sarcophagi and—’
‘Something like that.’
‘You don’t even know what we’ve got here yet, and already it’s not enough.’
‘Ben, I didn’t say that.’
‘You know what’s wrong with you, Louren Sturvesant? You’re bloody well spoiled. You’ve got everything, so nothing is good enough for you.’
‘Now, listen here!’ I saw my own anger reflected in his eyes, but I rushed on regardlessly.
‘I’ve planned and saved and worked for this all my life. And now I achieve it, and what do you do?’
‘Hey, Ben!’ I saw comprehension in his eyes suddenly, ‘I didn’t mean it that way. I’m not knocking your achievement. I really think it’s the most incredible discovery ever made in Africa, I was just—’
It took him a few minutes of hard talking to mollify me, but at last I grinned reluctantly.
‘Okay.’ I relented, ‘just don’t go saying things like that, Lo. All my life the bastards have been putting down my discoveries and theories, so don’t you start!’
‘One thing they’ll never be able to say about you is that you’re frightened to speak your mind!’ He punched my shoulder lightly. ‘Come on, Ben, let’s see what we’ve got in these pots.’
‘We shouldn’t disturb them, Lo.’ I was ashamed of my outburst now, and eager to make it up to him. ‘Not until we have mapped and charted—’
‘A couple of them are lying on the floor, knocked off the shelves,’ Louren pointed. ‘There are thousands of the bloody things. We will just snaffle one of them. Hell, Ben, it won’t do that much harm!’
He was not asking permission, not Louren Sturvesant, he was merely giving an order in the pleasantest possible fashion. Already he was making his way back to where the jars were lying beside the dusty bowed corpse, and I hurried after him.
‘Okay,’ I agreed unnecessarily, in an attempt to keep nominal control of my find. ‘We will remove one of them only ’ I felt a sneaking sense of relief that the wrong decision had been made for me. I was also in a fever of impatience to find out what was in the jars.
The jar stood in the centre of the workshop bench in our prefabricated warehouse. Night had fallen outside, but the overhead lights were all on. We stood around the bench, Sally, Ral, Leslie and I. Tinus van Vuuren was still up at the cavern, his status having changed from mine captain to night-watchman. Louren had decided to place a twenty-four-hour armed guard over the entrance to the tunnel, and Tinus was it - until we could get others.
Through the thin partition walls of the hut I could hear Louren’s voice as he shouted into the microphone of the radio.
‘A vacuum cleaner.
None of us paid attention to Louren’s voice, we were all staring in mesmerized fascination at the earthenware jar.
‘Well, it’s not filled with gold.’ Ral was certain. ‘Not heavy enough.’
‘Nor is it liquid - not wine or oil,’ Leslie agreed. And we relapsed into silence. The pot was about eighteen inches high, and thick around as a pickle jar. It was of unglazed red pottery, without inscription or ornamentation, and the lid was like that of a teapot with a small knob for a handle. It was sealed with a layer of black substance, probably gum or wax.
‘Get that lot on the Dakota first thing tomorrow morning, do you hear?’ Louren was still busy next door.
‘I wish he’d hurry up!’ Sally stirred impatiently. ‘I’m dying to find out what it is.’
Suddenly I was afraid. I didn’t want to know - I didn’t want to find the jar filled with African millet or some
