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

missed them, Miss Lauren. They’d been in that clearing with that horrible idol, perhaps just moments before we arrived. They slipped through the jungle another way, moving toward the campsite as we entered the clearing. If—if they’d gone by way of the path we took they’d have run right into us.”
    I nodded, trying not to shudder.
    â€œIt’s a wonder they didn’t hear us crashing through the jungle,” Sally continued. “Some special providence was looking out for us. We had a very close call. I’ll be so glad when this night’s over.” She glanced around at the dark, encroaching jungle. “The way I figure, I figure if they don’t come back by tonight, they won’t come back at all.”
    Our guide stood up abruptly and stepped toward the curtain of vines, lifting them and disappearing. I could hear the horse neighing nearby, hear his voice low and melodic as he soothed the animal. He returned a moment later with two rather mothy looking blankets he’d taken out of the saddle bags. Dropping them in front of us, he moved to the other side of the clearing and stretched out on the ground to sleep. Sally and I examined the blankets with dubious expressions.
    â€œProbably full of fleas,” she remarked, “but they’re better than nothing, I suppose. It’s already chilly, and the fire’s almost burned down. I don’t fancy I’ll be able to sleep much.”
    â€œWe might as well try,” I told her.
    The night air was indeed chilly, and the blankets were snug and warm, smelling of horseflesh and leather and perspiration. The jungle was still, so still I could hear the soft buzz of the insects and the sound of the stream. The fire was a heap of glowing dark orange coals, gradually dimming, dark shadows spreading over the clearing like heavy black veils. The moonlight was thin, only a few pale rays sifting through the treetops, emphasizing the darkness. I could barely make out the form of the native stretched out across the way, his burnoose a faint blur in the dense darkness. I tried to sleep, but it was a futile endeavor. I kept listening for the sound of stealthy footsteps. At least an hour passed, perhaps two, and still I was wide awake.
    â€œYou can’t sleep either,” Sally whispered.
    I gave a little jerk, so startled that I almost cried out.
    â€œYou’re a bundle of nerves, just like me,” she said. “I’ve been tossing and turning for hours—this mothy old blanket doesn’t help, nor does this lumpy ground.”
    There was more moonlight now, or perhaps my eyes had just grown accustomed to the dark. The fire had completely burned out, and there were shifting pools of pale silver on the ground, shadows moving as a very faint breeze caused leaf and limb to sway gently. It must be well after midnight by now, I thought, wishing the night were over. Faced with stark, shattering reality Sally and I had both acted with admirable calm, but now, in the dead of night, in the middle of a silent, menacing jungle, our nerves were taut, both of us on edge.
    â€œIt’s the not knowing,” she said. “I keep—waiting, not knowing if they’ll come or not.”
    â€œPerhaps those five men never mentioned us.”
    â€œPerhaps not, but if they did , those fiends will know for sure the bodies of two English girls weren’t thrown into that grave. They couldn’t afford to let us live.”
    â€œThere was no sign of of them all day long. Perhaps—”
    â€œThe men might not have mentioned us until say, lunchtime. They would have sent someone back for us immediately, and it would take them at least half a day to come back and find us. That—that’s why I’m so nervous tonight. This would be about the right time.”
    â€œLet’s don’t talk about it, Sally. Let’s—try to forget it.”
    â€œI only wish I could.”
    â€œThe native