Read Online The Death of the Mantis by Michael Stanley - Free Book Online

like that to their
children? Have you ever heard of anyone called that before?”
Kubu shook his head, keeping a straight face. Cindy watched him for
a moment. “You’re pretty good,” she said. “You didn’t even check
your watch to see how close it was to midnight.” This time Kubu did
laugh. Had circumstances been different, he would have enjoyed her
company a great deal. Smart and attractive, with a good sense of
humour. The thought made him worry guiltily if it was too late to
phone Joy. Now he did check his watch.
    “I need to call my wife. We have a baby, and it’s been a bit of
a struggle recently. And I am tired after the drive. Will you
excuse me?” He climbed to his feet.
    Cindy stood with him and touched his arm. “I hope they’re okay.
Thanks for having dinner with me. I hope we can do it again while
we’re here. I think you’re quite a special man, Kubu. Good night.”
And it was she who turned away and headed for her room, leaving
Kubu to look after her.
    ♦
    Khumanego didn’t go straight back to his small room. Instead, he
walked down the road that led to the border post at McCarthy’s
Rest. After several hundred metres he turned into the barren land
that lay beside it. There was just enough light from the
quarter-moon to pick his way between the scattered thorn bushes,
past a few stone kraals , until he was far enough from town
that he wouldn’t be disturbed.
    He gazed up. The sky was filled with the gods and his ancestors.
Watching him, bright-eyed. They were so close, he could hear them
whisper. He flung his arms upward to embrace them and started to
dance, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Feet stamping, body
spinning. Dancing faster and faster. Eyes closed. Spinning.
Spinning. His ancestors clapped in time to the music, urging him
on. Round and round he went. Round and round. Until he fell on to
the red sand, exhausted. And his mind left his body and joined the
spirit world.
    When it returned, he was lying on the ground, shaking.
Eventually he stood and dusted the sand from his clothes. Then he
headed back towards the lights of the town.

∨ The Death of the Mantis ∧
Six
    “T he Bushmen see
things very differently from other peoples.”
    Khumanego was sitting in the back seat of the police Land Rover.
Lerako was driving, furious that he had to make the long trip yet
again, and Kubu was in the passenger seat. Lerako had said it would
take about two hours of hard driving to get to where the Bushmen
had found the body. He commented that the road had improved a great
deal in the past year. Before that it would have taken all day, if
they got there at all. Kubu was thankful that the murder had
happened this year – the Land Rover was unbearably hot, and the
bumping and fishtailing down the sandy road made him very
uncomfortable.
    “Your people see themselves as separate from everything,”
Khumanego continued. “We see ourselves as part of everything. We
are part of the sky and of the earth. And the sky is part of the
earth, and the earth part of the sky. Just as the day is part of
the night. And night part of day. And you and me are part of each
other. When you dream, you change my world, just as my dreams
change yours.”
    “That’s nonsense!” Lerako growled. “Rubbish!”
    Khumanego ignored him.
    “When a kudu dies after we have hunted it, we feel its pain, and
at the same time it knows it is providing for us. We have a shared
purpose. We never hunt for more than we can eat, because if we did,
we would be robbing the animal we had killed. Stealing its destiny.
The world would get out of balance. Bad things would happen.
    “When we stop in the desert, we never eat all the food that is
available. Or drink all the water. We always leave some for those
who come after. We would rather take hunger and thirst with us than
leave it behind.
    “We are all part of the same world. All connected. That is why
the men you have arrested did not kill the man who died. Bushmen
don’t