Alex looked at the grotesque death with shock and a new respect for the wilds of Africa. Yesterday, it had seemed like a wonderful, magical zoo, but here was evidence of nature in its rawest form. Alex glanced at Sarah. Her expression was neutral. Africa had toughened Sarah to some of the more cruel realities of life.
They drove on, and after stopping at different spots to observe warthogs, waterbuck, hartebeest, impala, and hyena, George brought them over a rise to where three lionesses had just made a kill. He stopped the jeep a short distance away, and they watched as the male ripped open the belly of the wildebeest and tore out the liver and kidneys to eat. Only after he had eaten his fill did he allow the females, who had made the kill, to move in to gorge on the fresh, steaming meat.
They watched in macabre fascination as the females ripped at the haunches while the male gnawed contentedly on a bone. The smell of blood fouled the air, and the crack and crunch of large bones in powerful jaws was terrifying.
Next, the jackals and hyenas moved in, bouncing through the tall grass and darting in to rip off pieces of flesh before they were chased by the lions. Some stood at a distance keeping a lookout, while others fought over the scraps they had stolen. When the lions finally moved away, the hyenas and jackals descended in a mass. Jaws like vices snapped bones in half, and the bloody remains seemed to disappear before their eyes. The vultures moved in to peck and tear at the remains. Later, rodents and bugs would eat away at the marrow and hide. Death was everywhere on the great plain, but nothing remained to bear evidence to the carnage.
"Shit," whispered Alex, as she watched the dead wildebeest vanish before her eyes in less than half an hour.
Sarah gave her a quick hug. "A pretty thorough example of the food chain, huh?"
"You're telling me. There certainly isn't any waste."
"You're only seeing a little bit of the story. Have you noticed the termite hills? If you totalled up the weight of all the thousands of animals roaming over this plain, including the big guys like elephants and hippos, they would weigh less than the number of termites living in the ground," Sarah said.
Alex shivered. "Creepy."
George took them down to a river crossing where a large herd of zebras were milling around waiting to cross. They watched for sometime as the herd grazed near by. Gradually, a few came down to the water's edge and drank. Then a few more. A few brave ones waded out and swam safely to the other shore. More followed as the crocodiles started to move in from each side. The zebras hobby-horsed through the water in a steady stream as the thin wakes from the crocodiles got closer. One of the zebras reared up in fright, then another did the same. They splashed wildly to shore, safe, but others had yet to make it.
Alex's hand tightened over Sarah's, and Sarah moved closer. Alex could feel sweat breaking out on her own lip. "Damn, I hope those bastards don't get one," she said.
George chuckled. "Crocodile has to eat too. He can't help it that he is not pretty like the zebra. But I think these zebra are okay. The crocodiles here look too small. They have to grab the zebra by the face and pull him under and drown him. I do not think they are big enough."
But as they watched, a zebra squealed in fear as a crocodile snapped onto his nose and pulled his head under. The poor beast struggled to get his head to the surface but was pulled under again. Once more, he got his head up, but the exertion was tiring. Then, two other zebra veered over to where the poor animal struggled for survival and used their front hooves to pummel the crocodile. The croc let go, and all the zebras remaining in the water either turned back or made it safely to the other side.
Alex let out the breath she was holding, and Sarah leaned against her reassuringly. "The poor crocodile must eat fish tonight," George said as he started up the jeep again, but he, too, seemed relieved that the zebra had escaped.
They returned to Governor's Camp and ate under the shade of a large tree. "You've changed," Alex observed, once they had brought their plates back from the large buffet tables and settled down to eat.
"Yes, I have. Oh, my principles are the same, but I have a much clearer idea of the complications involved in trying to make this world a better place. I've lost my naive idealism and replaced it with some sound, practical approaches to life." She put down her fork and looked at Alex. "If I'd had the wisdom I have now back then, I still would have left you, but I'd have done so because the life was not for me, and not because I was harshly and unfairly judging the very social class that I had been raised in. I was wrong because every social class has its strengths and weaknesses, and I wasn't prepared to see that. Although I still believe we need to get our priorities straight, I'm sorry for some of the things I said at the time."
Alex swallowed hard. "I appreciate your willingness to see that we both contributed to our relationship falling apart, but I'm not here to criticize you as I know I've done in the past. I accept that in trying to make a better life for us, I destroyed the good things that we already had. The fault of our breakup was mine, and I'm finally able to see that.
"I've changed, too, Sarah. Matured. I'm more comfortable in my skin now and have nothing to prove other than I love you and I want to be your life partner."
"I love you too, Alex. But—"
"Hey, don't go there, not now. I... I know the buts. Let's just leave this as a positive conversation today and deal with some of the shit a bit later. Okay?"
Sarah let the subject drop.
Alex gathered up her things. There would be time later to talk. It would soon be time to go out on safari again. There was no point in getting into any of the raw issues when they were going to be out bouncing around in the jeep in half an hour or so. They finished their coffee and returned to their green canvas palace, as Alex insisted on calling it, to freshen up before meeting George at the jeep.
They went in search of crocodile and hippo. They didn't have to travel far down the river to see a big pod of hippos basking in the swallow river, their massive heads resting on each other's backs and their little round ears twitching back and forth. "The hippopotamus
needs to get lots of sun to warm his big body because he is in the water so much," George said, "but the sun doesn't like Mr. Hippo. Hippos have very sensitive skin and they burn easily. That is why they stay lounging in the river during the day and then come to shore and eat the grass and plants at night."
"Which ones are Buttercup and Daisy?" Alex asked, "I've got a bone to pick with those two. They scared me nearly out of my skin the other night."
George and Sarah laughed. "You must be careful. Daisy and Buttercup stay very close to the camp. A hippo never breaks his pattern. If you put up your tent on Mr. Hippo's path, he will walk right through your tent. Mr. Hippo doesn't care. Hippos kill more people each year than any other African animal because people don't respect those big jaws. He can snap a log in half," George said.
Sarah put her arm around Alex and gave her a hug. "Just as well you were armed with an umbrella, huh?" she teased. Alex took the opportunity to wrap her arm around Sarah's shoulder for a quick hug back.
They stood on the bank to allow Alex to take pictures of some crocodiles sunbathing on the opposite bank. One was over fifteen feet long and three feet wide across its back. George watched closely for animals nearby while the women were out of the truck, and Sarah watched that Alex didn't get too close to the water's edge. African rivers needed to be respected. They were filled with dangerous predators. "Mama crocodile is very happy. She has eaten well and will not have to hunt again for a long time, maybe even a year," George said.
The three got back into the vehicle but they hadn't gone far before they saw tall figures in bright red and yellow walking along. "Masai." George sneered. "Masai men are very lazy. Their women do all the work and they sit and talk all day or sit in the shade of a tree."
"That view couldn't have anything to do with you being a bushman, could it?" Sarah asked.
"Bushmen are good men. Masai men are no good," George reaffirmed.
They bounced on until they were close to the Masai group and then came to a stop. Much to Alex's surprise, Sarah hoisted herself up onto the roof of the jeep and slid off to embrace each of the five women and one man who walked with them. George and Alex
watched as Sarah chatted in Masai. Sarah looked like a midget next to the tall Masai. She gave the tall, stern looking man one more hug while the women giggled and then opened the door and got back into the jeep. "The women are all dressed up in their yellow and red robes and beads because they have been to a circumcision ceremony. They met John Cattleman on the trail, and he's walking back with them. He has invited us to visit his village tomorrow." Alex did a double take at the group walking ahead of them down the road. She hadn't recognized Cattleman in his traditional Masai dress.
George started the engine. "He is a strange one, Cattleman. Masai men are no good." Alex looked at Sarah, but she didn't seem concerned.
Towards dusk, they sat in the jeep on the crest of a hill. Not far away from them, three lionesses sat in a row watching a huge herd of wildebeest and zebra in the valley below. "Papa is hungry, and he has sent out his wives to bring him back a juicy wildebeest or zebra."
Sarah leaned close against Alex. "Wildebeest have an excellent nose for scent but very poor eyesight. The zebra can't distinguish smells as well but have excellent eyesight. That's why they migrate together."
Alex watched through her field glasses as one of the lionesses started circling around and down towards the herd below. "Why are zebras black and white, I wonder?"
"I just read about that," George responded, as he kept a close eye on where the lioness was going. "We didn't know for a long time, but now they think that the black and white pattern is like a strobe light to an insect. The pattern might have evolved to protect the zebra from the bite of the tsetse fly that carries sleeping sickness. For a long time, we knew that zebras didn't get the sickness as much as other animals. Maybe this is the answer. Other animals, too, have stripes on the inside of their ears where they are most likely to be bitten."
After the one lioness had left, the remaining two lay down on the grass, eyes and ears focussed on the herd below. Alex, Sarah, and George watched as the other lioness slunk through the tall grass, slowly getting closer and closer to the herd. Alex lowered her binoculars and looked at George, who rarely seemed to need his binoculars because his eyesight was so sharp. "Is she going to try and kill one of the herd animals by herself?"
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"She will try, but no, that is not her main intention. You see the herd is getting restless. They keep looking up and staring at the grass where she is. The zebras know something is there. Mama lion will get as close as she can and then try to spring for the neck of one of the animals, but she won't mind if she misses because what she is really doing is stampeding the herd towards the other two here on the hill."
"Good Lord, you mean they have a plan? They're hunting as a team?"
"Yes."
They sat now in tense silence, watching the drama unfold below them. The lioness crept closer to the herd, low to the ground, ears back, and alert. Sometimes she was visible to the watchers on the hill, and other times she was lost in the ocean of waving grass. She had planned her attack well; the breeze that rustled the dense vegetation around her blew her scent away from the herd. Pebbles slid down the side of an old termite mound as she passed. One black and white head lifted from grazing and looked her way. She slid forward faster now that she had been spotted.
The zebra closest to her kicked its heels high and galloped away. Other heads lifted. Now was her only chance; she bounded forward. Wildebeest and zebra scattered in all directions. Choking in a cloud of dust, she lunged at the shadowy form darting past and missed. She did not try again but contented herself with herding the panic-stricken animals in the direction of the other lionesses.
Sarah and Alex lowered their binoculars and watched the massive herd stampeding up the hill in their direction. The thunder of their hooves echoed across the valley and shook the ground. The two waiting lionesses rose and cautiously wove their way through the grass towards where the herd would pass. Alex swallowed and felt Sarah's hand slip into her own. The herd crested the hill, and the lionesses ran forward, teeth bared and claws extended, but the herd had the advantage of momentum and sheer size. The lions could do nothing but try to outrun the animals at the outer edge for fear of being trampled. They soon gave up the chase. The dust settled. The drumming of hooves faded. The lionesses disappeared into the grass that was now painted gold by the setting sun. A lone rain tree stood silhouetted against an endless plain that ran to an infinite horizon. The lions would go hungry tonight as wild Africa prepared to sleep.
* * *
Exhausted from their long day and the excitement and emotions of the experiences, Sarah and Alex returned to their tent, weary but delighted.
Sarah flopped down on the bed and Alex in the camp chair. "We could shower together."
Sarah's head turned to look at her. "Yeah, we could."
A slow, lazy smile crossed Alex's face. Suddenly, she wasn't tired anymore. She stood and walked over to offer her hand to Sarah, pulled her up to her feet, and then lifted her into her arms. "I love you," Alex said and proved it with the kiss that followed.
Their shower was more intimate this time; washing was sensual as well as practical. Alex lathered Sarah's hair while dropping kisses onto her wet neck. Sarah used a body lotion with the fragrant scent of peaches and vanilla to caress Alex, kissing, fondling and rubbing her body against the fit form. They came close to meeting each other's needs, but once again, Sarah slowed the pace, tenderly but firmly letting Alex know that she still was not ready to cross the line that would make them lovers again.
The sexual tension and scent of hot need saturated the canvas room, carried on the steam from the shower. Alex fought for control. She had to be content with the lingering sensation of Sarah's lips on her breasts and her fingertips caressing her body.
After their shower, they sat on the deck of the bar that overlooked the river below and watched elephants feeding in the bush on the opposite bank. They then walked across the compound lawn to the dining pavilion for a meal of mango salad, roast ostrich with vegetables, and cooked bananas covered in fresh chocolate and flamed with a fruit brandy sauce. Later, they took their liqueur glasses of Benedictine to sit by the fire.
Alex thought about the man they had met on the trail with the women. His ear lobes had been pierced and stretched into big loops of skin. He'd worn a red cotton tunic that came nearly to his knees. In one hand, he held a tall Masai spear, and in his beaded belt, he carried a short sword. Cattleman had been an impressive sight, but he sure hadn't looked like a potential threat to the political stability of the area. She said as much to Sarah.
"The Masai have very strong ties to their families and to their traditional ways. John is just as comfortable in European dress as he is proud to wear his Masai clothes. There is a whole ritual and chain of procedures that a man must go through before becoming an adult
member of the Masai community. That process binds him closely to the land and to his people, even if he does choose to get a European education."
Alex leaned back in her chair. There was no point in going early to bed; Sarah had made that quite clear. Besides, she wanted to show Sarah that she had changed, that she could take the time to listen and to support her partner's interests and to appreciate the research she was doing. "Tell me about it."
"That would take months. The Masai live by a strict order of ritualized life stages. Masai are not Moslem. They still follow the old African beliefs. You'll have to read my ethnology, but in a nutshell, it works like this: between five- and ten-months-old, a baby is named. It is given the name of a hero or famous leader. Then, at the age of four or five, the front teeth are removed for beauty. When the child is between nine and ten years old, the ears are pierced and extended with wooden spools over time. This is also done for beauty."
"Whatever happened to swimming lessons and braces?"
"It's a whole different world out here." Sarah took a sip of her drink before she went on. "Girls are circumcised at puberty."
"That's barbaric."
"Yes, but this is their country and their way. Perhaps over time and with education, things will change, as cultures do, but it isn't for us to force change on them. Female circumcision is performed in the woman's house by the chief woman. They may cry, but the family will give them gifts if they don't. Once a girl has gone through this ritual, she may marry."
Alex nodded her understanding. "What about the boys?"
"Boys go through the process between the ages of fifteen and eighteen years old."
"Ouch!"
"They are circumcised at the main gate of the village or in the centre of the village, but only the males of the village can be there. Men may not cry, or they are seen to be weak and cowards."
"Do the boys marry that young, too?" Alex asked.
"Oh, no, the males have a long way to go yet. They now start their training to be warriors. From around eighteen to twenty-five, men are expected to act smart, brave, and arrogant."
"The whole macho scene, huh?"
"You got it. They must prove themselves by killing a lion or participating in cattle raids. Today, it's very difficult to kill a lion
because they're protected for the tourist trade. So most get involved in cattle stealing and the inter-tribal fights associated with the raids. They're illegal, too, but it's harder for the authorities to catch them."
"It was on one of those raids that you were hit by the spear?"
"Yes." Sarah continued before Alex dropped into her doctor's mode and launched into a lecture. "At the beginning of the rainy season, the warriors retreat into the bush to 'eat meat.'" Sarah made quotation marks with her fingers. "This is to make them strong. At this time, too, they're instructed in their ways by the headmen and spiritual leaders. A Cape buffalo will also be killed to make each warrior's shirt. They're gone for over six months."
"That's quite a commitment in time and effort. I can see why it would reinforce the traditional culture. Not participating would result in total exclusion."
"It sure does, and this is only the beginning. After they've proven themselves ready to be warriors, a special village is built where they stay to complete their training. They'll stay there for up to two years and may only be visited by men and the old women."
Alex shook her head in disbelief.
"Should I go on, or have you heard enough?" Sarah asked.
Alex grabbed a piece of dry wood to toss on the embers of the fire. "Go ahead, I want to understand what I'm getting into tomorrow."
"Each group that goes through the ritual towards manhood has a peer who is picked as their leader. It's a great honour. He must be rich, beautiful, intelligent, brave, and a good speaker. He must also come from the Black House. There are a number of houses to which families belong. John was the leader of his group. That gives him great power among his village peers. The leader's role is to set an example, or as they would say 'clear a path' for his age group."
"Sarah, I'm really impressed by your research here. I've never really given the social sciences much credence, but I'm beginning to realize why the political and business world has met with such resistance—and even violence—because they didn't bother to understand this stuff."
"That's right. Mind you, I have my own biases. I think that people with Masters degrees in business can be the most narrow and unaware people I've ever met."
She went on. "The Masai warriors have an interesting bonding process during this time. They're rivals of the group that went
through the ritual before them and are supported by the group that went through the process before their rivals. So every other generation is very close."
"So the young warriors are influenced, not by the inexperienced men, but the ones that have gained ten years of insight. That reinforces the traditions and discourages rebellion."
"That's right." Sarah picked up a stick and poked the fire. Sparks danced into the night air.
Alex watched Sarah with hungry eyes, but she pushed those thoughts from her mind and asked another question about the initiation instead. "So John would be old enough to be a supporter of the boys going through initiation now?"
"Yes."
"Could that be significant to the warning you got?"
Sarah took a sip of her drink and considered. "It might be. Then again, it could be he's back here simply meeting his tribal obligations. I can tell you though, I'm worried. Although the Masai are not, a good percentage of the people in this country are Moslem. They're also poor and facing a dismal future. They haven't been immune to the propaganda of fundamentalists."
"But what does that have to do with you? Have you been messing around in the local politics, or could you have overheard something you shouldn't have?"
"Neither, that I can recall. Nor am I likely to make that mistake. To do my research accurately and fairly, I have to be a totally neutral and open observer. That can be very hard at times, but it's essential for the work that anthropologists do. The final ceremony of the initiation rights will be coming up in a few months. I'm wondering if something will happen then."
Alex eyes filled with concern. "Tell me about it."
"The ceremony lasts five days. The men of the village will dress in ostrich headdresses or lion skin, if they've killed one. They'll march back to their old village, and their heads will be shaved. Following this, in the months to come, there will be two other ceremonies, one that allows the warriors to drink milk in the village again and another for meat eating."
"Sounds harmless enough."
"Yes, but they're young warriors eager to make names for themselves and could be easily led to prove their bravery with a dangerous and reckless act."
"Do you think that's why John is here? To lead some sort of uprising or terrorist act that would support the ambitions of a few Islamic fundamentalists?"
"I like John. He helped me a lot when I first came here. I think he's honourable and decent. I also know he's passionate about his political and social beliefs and his need to help his people."
"Good people can be led to commit terrible acts in the name of God," Alex said.
"Yes. But John isn't a Moslem. If he is involved in something, it's because he feels it will help the Masai people."
The fire cracked, and the burning log crumbled into red embers. The night closed in. Sarah signalled to their guard, and they went to their tent. They slept that night wrapped close in each other's arms.
* * *
Alex stood outside their tent watching the sun rise over the Serengeti. It spilled over the endless horizon and washed the sea of grass below with gold. Vultures circled over a night kill. An elephant trumpeted the dawn, and birds took up the chorus in the trees of the nearby bush. The African sickness, Sarah had called it. A love of the land so deep in Europeans that they had to return to Africa no matter what the dangers or hardships. Not far from there, in the Olduvai Gorge, human life had evolved some five million years ago. All humans were African at their roots. Perhaps there was some trace memory in their genetic code still that called them home.
Alex could feel it now. Would Sarah be prepared to leave and re-establish her life and career in Canada? If not, would Alex be prepared to give up her practice and follow Sarah to Africa?
"You're up early."
Sarah stood beside her, wrapped in a blanket against the morning chill. Alex pulled Sarah close.
"Couldn't sleep," Sarah said. "You seemed deep in thought."
"Africa was calling to me."
"It does that. I'll be sorry to leave."
"But you plan to?"
Sarah looked fondly over the land. "As much as I love it here, this isn't my land. Africans will make their own future, either good or bad. I don't belong here anymore. My research will be complete in a few months."
"Does that mean you'd consider a life in Canada with me?" Sarah hugged Alex. "It means I'll be returning to Canada, at any rate."
They left shortly after breakfast for the Masai village. Sarah had instructed Alex to bring along her box of medical supplies, as they would stop at the local clinic on the way back.
George took them down a narrow dirt road. The closer they got to the Masai village, the shorter the grasses, until the land was chomped to the ground.
Sarah looked around. "The Masai judge their wealth by cattle. That's led to over-grazing. Each year, humans encroach deeper and deeper into the grasslands, reducing the area set aside for the wild animals."
"Don't the Masai appreciate the wild heritage around them?"
"Sure they do. It's their mythology that has preserved the wildlife here. Remember, God gave them goats and cattle, and they promised in return not to hunt God's animals or scratch God's earth. Any killing they do is to save themselves from attack or for ritual reasons. But they know they have to eat and prosper, and that means they need land."
The village was on a small rise. It consisted of a round, high fence of brush. George pulled up the jeep and they waited. George checked the area carefully for wild animals and then nodded to the women. They got out and waited again. Soon a tall, regal-looking woman came out, and Sarah walked forward to greet her with a bow, as was the Masai way.
"Alex, this is Maria. She is the first wife of the headman of this village."
"Welcome, Alex." Maria's speech was clear and precise.
With a bow of her head, Alex responded, "Thank you for letting me visit your village." Maria smiled, and together they entered the village. There, John waited for them. He still wore traditional Masai dress.
He shook Sarah and Alex's hands in a European fashion. "Welcome. It is good to see you again." Alex looked around the village. Small, low houses edged the circumference, and the central area was sun-baked cow dung flattened into a hard crust under the
feet of the cattle. Since there were four gates, from what Sarah had told her, she knew four men and their extended families lived here.
Maria had been busy bringing the children and wives out. They were dressed in robes of bright red and yellow and wore wide, stiff collars of beading. Some wore gold or beaded chains that looped from their large earpieces to their noses. All were tall, lean, and wiry. Alex herself was a good height, but Maria was a several inches taller.
Maria carried a small club like a swagger stick, and her women lined up quickly and obediently at her command. "We will sing you a song of welcome," she told them, and stood while her flock sang and swayed happily to the rhythmic, repetitive music.
As they sang, John told a bit of his people's history. "The Masai are a Nilotic group. They believe their ways are similar to the Egyptians during Roman occupation because they are a military society, wear robes and sandals, carry short swords, and wear similar headdresses. The word Maa means 'language' and Sai means 'beads.' We probably migrated down the Nile Valley in the fifteenth century. Our language is closest to the people of the Sudan." The song ended, and Alex and Sarah politely clapped.
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