‘Graham, shoot the bloody thing, I haven’t got the angle.’
He tried to line up the crocodile, but the canoe bounced about in the water, the end of the rifle swung randomly at crocodile, river, canoe, Benjamin. The crocodile twisted its body violently, trying to tip the canoe under water as it would have done any other victim.
‘Fire your bloody gun Graham.’
The first shot hit the water, missing by more than a yard. The crocodile didn’t notice, tearing off a chunk of canoe then grabbing at it again.
‘Relax, don’t fight it,’ shouted Paul.
Graham let the rifle swing with the canoe, timing his shot as the sight passed the crocodile, and hit it in the midriff. It didn’t appear to notice and carried on jerking and twisting. On the next pass, he fired again. For a few moments it carried on its attack but then let go and floundered away, attracting the attention of the others. Within seconds, it was caught by the neck in a death roll.
Benjamin and Rachel paddled on furiously, overtook the hippos and got into the main current. Further downstream, the remaining crocodiles were nonchalantly sunbathing on the sandbank, seemingly oblivious to the mayhem. One with its mouth wide open, a small bird hopping between its teeth, looking for titbits in exchange for oral hygiene.
‘Mankind and hippos three, crocodiles nil,’ muttered Graham. He took one hand off his rifle. It was shaking, so he grabbed the side of the canoe and held on tightly.
They continued on, still awash with adrenaline, looking for the slightest hint of ripples or crocodile anatomy, but that danger was behind them.
‘I thought you said they don’t attack canoes.’ Graham said.
‘We’ve been honoured to witness the exception that proves the rule.’ Paul replied then, in the distance, they heard a shot.
‘Shouldn’t we answer?’ Graham asked. ‘It might be the British Army, they must have heard us shooting .’
‘And it might be Ngai.’ Paul replied. ‘We keep quiet and hope they don’t come after us.’
The gun fired again. The children looked at each other, and then expectantly at Graham. He shook his head. ‘Tell them it belongs to the bad people and that we need to get the hell out of here.’
He looked back upstream. The hippos were boisterously splashing about like two-ton lambs gambling in a sunny meadow. They appeared to be celebrating their victory, and then he saw a crocodile being tossed into the air, a mouse being played with by a cat.
‘I wonder how many people have seen that? Paul asked.
‘Hippos facing up to crocs?’ Graham replied. ‘They had a bit of help of course, courtesy of Mr Kalashnikov. I thought they got on well together.’
‘They’ve learnt to live in mutual and unresolved hatred and only attack under pressure.’
‘Bit like half the world then.’
‘I never took you for a cynic.’
‘I’m a bloody journalist, of course I’m a cynic. Do you think there will be more like that? Most of them have been shyer than a debutant on her first date. This lot were more like Moss Side on a Saturday night, all anger and bad attitude.’
‘No idea, maybe there was tension before we arrived and we were the last straw. On a brighter note, the river’s now going at least twice as fast as yesterday.’
‘And maybe by tomorrow it will be going four times as fast and we’ll find ourselves on the Big Dipper without a safety bar. In the African Queen, they hit some rapids.’ Graham said helpfully.
‘At school, we weren’t permitted to go to the cinema, and that sort of film would definitely be far too raunchy for the Fathers. What happened?’
‘Wide shot of rapids with a toy boat bouncing about in the water; not very convincing.’
‘Well they wouldn’t want to risk their stars on the real thing; did they survive?’
‘They survived, though Humphrey Bogart had Katherine Hepburn to encourage him and all I’ve got is you.’
‘Believe me old chap, I’d rather be anywhere else.’
‘Mother didn’t approve of the cinema, she didn’t approve of much at all. I had to skip school to watch it.’
‘A good job that you finally upped sticks and left home then.’
‘It’s made me what I am.’
‘Stuck in a dugout on a river full of the devils own, being followed by a bunch of homicidal revolutionaries. In the circumstances, it must be very comforting to have your family with you. Now I’m going to lie flat on my back for a while and count hippos.’
*****
The river continued its meandering way. The countryside had thinned a little, becoming light woodland, and it was possible to see a distance away from the riverbank. Occasionally, several hundred yards away from the river, groups of antelope could be seen nibbling at acacia leaves and by the river the bird life increased, flocks rising from any flat area that the small birds could access water. Heron, storks and kingfishers hunted, and monkeys came to the water’s edge, some nervously bounding away on seeing the canoes, others staying and curiously watching them. “One day,” thought Graham. “People are going to pay a lot of money for this experience.”
Over in the other canoe, Paul was asleep, his breathing was even. he’d managed to get into the canoe that morning without any help, definitely on the mend.
The children stopped paddling and Rachel started shouting at Benjamin.
‘Keep the noise down,’ Paul said sounding half-asleep.
‘What are they saying?’ Graham asked.
… ‘Roughly translated,’ Paul replied sitting up, ‘he thinks that he knows where we are, she says he’s talking rubbish … If he’s right, we’re about to meet some rapids. Perhaps your mentioning of the African Queen was a little unfortunate.’
‘Premonition mate, what do you think?’
Paul spoke to Benjamin … ‘We should leave the river and continue east on foot. He thinks their village is about a day’s walk … If we carry on, we risk the rapids, but end up a lot closer to the village.’
‘What does Rachel say?’
…. ‘She says he doesn’t know what he’s talking about and we should continue.’
‘Are you up to a day’s hike, which will probably be double that?’
‘Not really.’
‘If they exist, how far away are the rapids?’
… ‘Not far, maybe a mile … he reckons we should get through, though he’s never tried.’
‘So why don’t we just go carefully, and then stop and assess when we get there?’
‘You haven’t done that much paddling through rapids have you?’
‘None.’
‘Me neither. Very well, I’ll tell them.’
It all seemed so peaceful, but the river was getting shallower and narrower, their speed increasing. Soon the kids weren’t paddling to make progress, but to stay in midstream and avoid the rock-lined edges.
‘It’s time to abandon ship isn’t it?’ Paul shouted above the increasing noise.
‘Too late mate, there’s nowhere to abandon to. Rocks ahead, ask him how long they last for.’
‘Not far … fifty yards.’
The canoes picked up more speed, sweeping past the first few rocks. Exciting, exhilarating then Graham was upside down and underwater, sideways, violently twisting, trying to hold his breath, but having it beaten out of his lungs by the churning. He got his head into the air for a moment, gasped in a lung full and attempted to hold onto a rock, but was torn away. He was underwater again, instinctively kicking with his legs, scraping his calf on a rock.
Head above the water, gasping breaths and stable enough to get a glimpse of the other dugout further downstream. Rachel’s head in the water following it. The canoe pirouetting around, tipping over. Benjamin clambered onto a rock, and then Graham was under again, spinning in an eddy, dragged down then flung upwards over a rock, and falling downwards six feet into a calmer pool, catching his shoulder on the way down.
The other dugout had stopped, caught on a submerged rock and R
achel had caught up with it, grabbed hold of it. Behind, Benjamin was on the river bank hopping from rock to rock but there was no sign of Paul. The current picked up Graham again, carrying him towards the canoe. He grabbed hold, Rachel at the other end, staring at him. The dugout shifted a little then shifted some more and Graham felt it starting to twist away. He grabbed the edge, one hand at a time, catching hold, hand over hand; slowly, strenuously moving towards the centre. It gracefully left its perch and rejoined the current, pirouetting, bouncing, pausing for a few seconds then off again, weaving through the eddies and rocks with both hanging on.
The river got wider, deeper and slower. Paul was ahead, in the shallows, his head face down in the water. Graham abandoned the dugout, swam a few yards then waded over, shouting but with no response.
He got his arms to either side of Paul, dragged him to the riverbank and lay him on his back. He tilted his head back, stuck a finger into his mouth to clear it then took a deep breath and breathed into his lungs.
‘Pulse, you’re meant to check for the pulse first,’ he muttered to himself. ‘First thing you should do, check the pulse.’
He pressed a couple of fingers against Paul’s wrist, nothing.
‘Bugger.’ He gave him another lung full of air. ‘Chest, you bash his chest, where do you bash his chest? … Check his neck, big artery in the neck.’ He pressed a finger hard into the flesh … nothing, moved his finger around trying to remember where the artery was and gave Paul another lungful. A pulse! Slow, but a pulse. No need to break a rib. Probably hit the wrong place anyway.
Deep breath, breathe into Paul’s mouth, count to thirty, deep breath, breathe into Paul’s mouth. He looked up, Benjamin and Rachel had arrived and were staring at him. Deep breath, breathe into Paul’s mouth, count to thirty … Deep breath, breathe into Paul’s mouth, count to thirty … Deep breath … Paul coughed, spluttered, coughed again and water dribbled out of his mouth. Graham turned him into his side as he continued to splutter. More water came out, and he threw up.
Graham sat back, an arm still on Paul’s shoulder to support him as he had a coughing fit.
‘You alright mate?’
‘I was under … head under … couldn’t get my head up … round in circles. Bloody awful …’
His voice sounded as if his throat were full of cardboard. He coughed again and rubbed phlegm from his chin. ‘How did I get here?’
‘Pulled you out and gave you the kiss of life! Don’t ever ask me to do it again, you haven’t brushed your teeth for weeks.’
‘Artificial respiration?’
‘Learnt it in the army, though I never managed to resuscitate any of the rubber dummies.’
‘Well, I for one am most grateful to them.’
‘Pity you had to throw up all over my nightie.’
‘It was already filthy, a bit of puke won’t make much difference.’ Paul had another coughing fit, almost threw up again then closed his eyes, lay on his back and breathed long and gently, getting everything back under control. ‘I’d suggest you have a look to see if there’s anything with big teeth hanging about then have a bath.’
‘What, and get wet?’
Paul pushed himself upright. ‘You’ve got blood all over your leg as well and your shoulder isn’t looking too healthy … give me five minutes to get my lungs sorted out.’
‘Okay, five minutes it is, and then we’ll have to carry on our merry way.’
‘The canoes?’
‘Rachel’s rescued one but the other’s gone so it’s going to be cosy.’
Graham sat down in the shallows, took his robe off and hung onto to one end, letting it flap in the current. His leg bled freely for a couple of minutes though the flow had subsided by the time Paul joined him. He moved Graham’s hand out of the way to look at the wound.
‘Just a graze, almost stopped bleeding. Shoulder’s bloody sore though.’ Graham said.
‘You’ll have to watch out for infection.’
‘I think after the last couple of months I’m pretty much immune to all the local bugs. How are you?’
‘Slowly returning to the feeble state I was in before the rapids. Thank you for saving my life … again.’
‘You’re welcome; actually I’m feeling rather pleased with myself. Up until now I’d assumed artificial respiration was just another exercise the army had dreamt up to keep us out of the pub. Never thought I’d have the need to use it.’
‘The kids think you performed a miracle, breathing life into the dead.’
‘I don’t suppose it’s worth telling them I had it beaten into me by the British Army?’ Graham asked, wringing out the remains of his robe and pulling it over his head.
‘Not until we get home, or at least hit civilisation. Best keep them in awe.’
‘Are you up to carrying on yet?’
‘Just about, though my lungs feel as if they’ve been cleaned out with a scrubbing brush.’ He got up and they headed slowly towards the canoe, where Rachel had beached it further down the river.
As they approached, the children fell to the ground in front of Graham.
‘For the love of … any idea what they’re muttering?’ Graham asked.
‘Sounds like the Dies Iræ to me,’ Paul replied, ‘though the conjugating has much to be desired.’
‘Tell them we’re off out of here.’
‘No, it’s time for you to move in mysterious ways. Go to them and gently lift them up. While you’re at it, bless them.’
‘Sod that,’ he went up to Rachel, tapped her on the shoulder and beckoned up with a finger. ‘Come on girl, we need to leave.’
He turned to Paul. ‘Ask Benjamin how much further to the village.’
… ‘Half a day.’
‘There by tea time then. He’s not worried about Rachel’s demons?’
… ‘Apparently Rachel is an idiot and doesn’t know what she’s talking about.’
Rachel shouted at Benjamin.
… ‘To which she responds that she is married to you, he’s only a child and he should bow down to her.’
‘Jolly good. Have we lost everything?’
‘Everything, apart from Benjamin’s rifle.’
‘He hung onto his AK? The boy’s a bloody miracle.’
‘Not only that, while you were washing your whites, he stripped it down, dried it off and put it back together again.’
‘Nothing else though, no food?’
‘No food.’
‘Come on then.’
They pushed the canoe back into the river.
‘Bloody hell!’ Graham exclaimed as the canoe sank into the shallows a two-foot gash down one side. ‘What now?’
‘We walk,’ Paul replied.
*****
They followed a dusty animal trail southeast, away from the river, passing thorn laden acacia bushes growing in parched ground covered with the yellowed remains of last year’s grass. Small black spiders scampered down cracks in the path on their approach, Benjamin at the front, holding his rifle with one hand and swinging a large stick with the other. Behind, they formed a line; Paul holding an impromptu staff which he occasionally leant on to catch his breath.
After an hour and a couple of miles, a troop of baboons started to track them, walking twenty yards to one side. Benjamin finally got fed up with them, picked up a rock and threw it. After a brief conference, the baboons scampered off.
‘What did they want?’ Graham asked.
‘Just curious, probably hoped we’d be carrying a picnic,’ Paul replied between heavy breaths. He sat down on a large rock at the side of the path and let his staff fall to the ground.
‘There are a few tins of baked beans and some bread floating down the river if they fancy a swim.’ Graham replied and sitting down alongside. ‘Not to mention the remains of the scotch … How are you coping?’
‘I’m coping, as long as we don’t break into a sprint.’
‘Not a problem; if we bump into anything nasty we’ll shoot it instead of
running away.’
He picked up Paul’s staff from the ground and gave it to him.
‘Get many snakes in these parts?’
‘Hundreds, though sadly, during my short time on this world, I’ve met very few. They tend to keep out of the way of people.’
‘One turned up in the Stardust car park last year; green mamba according to Jonathan.’
‘I doubt it. There are dozens of species of green snakes, mostly harmless, but no one says they’ve seen a green snake, they’ve always seen a mamba. I kept a few grass snakes when I was a kid, terrific fun, especially if you’ve got sisters.’
‘I bet you called them mambas.’
‘Didn’t need to, if they’re green they must be; they were terrified of them. You don’t suffer from a phobia do you?’
‘Phobia of snakes? No mate, not at all. The fear I’ve got of them is perfectly rational.’
‘Snakes are like most wild animals, if they hear you coming, they’ll disappear.’
‘Bit like my forays to the Plaza Ballroom then, never managed to pull there either. I’m dying for a beer.’
‘You’ll find a few bottles floating downstream with the baked beans.’
‘I thought we had it made with the canoes; still, according to Benjamin, we should be at their village in an hour or so, they’ve probably got a pub.’ Graham stood up then took Paul’s elbow. ‘Time we were off, mate.’
*****
After a while, the acacias became interspersed with tall, bare looking baobabs. The sun had passed its zenith and the afternoon was heating up. It didn’t worry the kids or Paul but Graham had found another broad green leaf to dangle over his head. Benjamin still led, slashing at any recalcitrant branches crossing the trail with his bayonet then he stopped and started to argue with Rachel.
‘Can’t having talking in the ranks,’ Paul said and he shouted at them.
Rachel came over and prostrated herself in front of Graham.
‘For God’s sake girl, get up.’
She didn’t move, so Graham lifted her chin and smiled. ‘May your blessings be as the cockroaches in the long drop, now get up.’
She still didn’t move but talked quietly and quickly to Paul, occasionally glancing at Graham.
‘They’re lost,’ Paul announced, ‘and she begs your forgiveness.’
Graham looked at her worried face, and laughed.
‘So what’s funny?’ Paul asked.
‘Nothing mate, absolutely nothing, tell her she’s forgiven.’ Graham sat down on the ground next to her. ‘Maybe this would be a good time to take five and take stock. Watch where you sit, there are a few spiky things.’