Read Online Danger at Dahlkari by Jennifer Wilde - Free Book Online

through the rustling leaves to make flickering pools on the grass, and to the monkeys peering at us from the trees we must have looked like two ragged nymphs. It seemed an eternity ago since we had left Delhi, I thought. I leaned back on the grass, closing my eyes, and when I opened them the clearing was brushed with hazy silver, shadows spreading over the ground.
    Sally was still fast asleep. I had no idea how much time had passed. It was cool now, much cooler than it had been the night before. I shivered, wondering where our guide was. The jungle was silent, the monkeys asleep, the birds still, faint rustles and crackles only intensifying the silence. Sally groaned in her sleep and turned over on her side, her head cradled on her arms. Stiff and sore, my bones aching, I stood up and stretched, beginning to grow alarmed. Where was the native? What had happened to him? Surely … surely he wouldn’t abandon us?
    It was then that the curtain of flowering vines parted and the native stepped into the clearing, the carcass of some small animal slung over his shoulder. I gave a little cry, startled, and he shook his head to indicate I shouldn’t be afraid. I wondered where the horse was. He had probably left it tethered nearby after feeding and watering it, I reasoned. He slung the animal to the ground, squatted and took out a long, sharp knife that gleamed in the moonlight. Ignoring me completely, he began to skin the animal, and I turned away, repulsed by the grisly sight. I had no idea what kind of animal he had killed, and it was probably best that I didn’t. At least we were going to eat tonight, and at the moment I would welcome anything.
    Animal skinned and spread out on some leaves, the man used his knife to dig a small hole in the ground. He circled it with stones, filled it with wood and then thrust two Y-shaped sticks in the ground, on one either side of the hole. Reaching inside his robe, he withdrew a flint, and in a moment the fire was burning pleasantly, bright orange flames driving the moonlight away and filling the clearing with dancing shadows. Spearing the remains of the animal on a long stick, he placed it across the fire, letting the homemade spit rest on the two upright sticks. Flames licked at the meat, and soon grease was dripping and popping and the meat crackled as he squatted beside the fire and turned the spit. He had not looked at me once. I might not even have been there.
    Sally awoke with a start, sitting up abruptly.
    â€œIs that meat ?” she exclaimed.
    â€œOf sorts,” I said.
    â€œI was having this glorious dream—I was dreaming of a fat roast pig, all pink and juicy, stretched out on a platter with an apple in its mouth. It was so real I could smell it. What’s he cooking?”
    â€œI don’t know, but I doubt that it’s pig.”
    Whatever it was, it was absolutely delicious. When the meat was done the native cut it into sections, placed the sections on leaves and handed Sally and I each a serving. Then, squatting on the other side of the fire, he took a meaty joint between his two hands and began to eat with considerable relish. Sally and I exchanged glances, and then, shrugging, she took up her section and imitated the native, as did I. Sitting with our legs folded under us, skirts spread out, we ate in a most undignified manner. We each had a second helping and finally, tossing the last bone into the jungle, wiped our hands on our skirts and drank from the canteen the native tossed over to us.
    â€œIt was probably jackal or something,” Sally said thoughtfully, “but I’ve never enjoyed a meal more.”
    â€œNor have I.”
    â€œWe—we’ve been very lucky, Miss Lauren.”
    â€œI know that.”
    â€œI keep thinking of—what happened, can’t help myself. I keep thinking of Ahmed, that poor, beautiful boy.” She paused for a long moment, peering into the low-burning flames. “We—we just