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Authors: Suzanne Arruda
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travelers, allowing them a glimpse of its majesty, much like some king standing on a high balcony, waving to the crowds far below. But a true audience with this royal mountain is harder to receive.
—The Traveler
“STOWAWAYS?” JADE RAN TOWARDS HARRY. HE STOOD IN FRONT OF the baggage car, hands on his narrow hips, glaring at someone as yet hidden from Jade’s sight. She heard a chirp, her first clue to the identities.
“Jelani?” she asked when she beheld the youth. He stood beside the crates, arms folded across his slender chest, face resolute and defiant. Biscuit, a makeshift leather leash tied to his collar, stood beside him. The lad wore the same knee-length shorts as in his teacher’s hut, along with a faded brown long-sleeved shirt. The shirt was unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His feet were strapped into a pair of leather sandals that had been mended so often little remained of the original work. His black eyes locked onto Harry and, without so much as a glance in Jade’s direction, he spoke.
“We are here, Simba Jike, to guard you.”
Harry cut loose in a whoop of laughter, then stifled it when he saw Jade’s serious expression. “The devil,” he said. “And since when does Simba Jike need the protection of a boy? Or anyone, for that matter?”
Jelani did not deign to answer, but turned towards Jade and jumped out of the car. “My teacher sent me,” he said.
Harry pulled his hat off and scratched his head. “I thought I saw one extra body when the gear was transferred at Voi. Rascal must have slipped out of the car unnoticed, carried boxes to the new cars, and just stayed in there, though how he managed to get Biscuit past everyone is beyond me.”
“Jelani, I’m always happy to see you, but you’ll be in trouble again. You don’t have travel permits.” Jade looked him over. “You must be thirsty and starving, too.”
“Do not worry for me, Simba Jike.” He held out the metal canister that contained his kipande , or documents. “You signed my paper to work for you, remember? I carried gourds of water and bought fruit at the Voi station. Biscuit hunted for birds when everyone ate in the station. I bought a chicken for him when you stopped today.”
“You used your hut tax money to buy food?” asked Jade.
Jelani grinned for the first time. “No, I used the money that Bwana Nyati paid me for moving the boxes.” He nodded in Harry’s direction.
“The devil,” repeated Harry. “Well, you’re here, so I won’t send you back. But I’m not paying you again.”
Jelani shrugged.
“Leave him alone, Harry,” said Jade. “Jelani works for me. I’ll pay his wages.” She turned back to the youth. “But why does your teacher think I need to be protected? He already warned me about two deaths. That was over when the African man killed the American in Nairobi and then himself.”
Jelani shook his head. “No, Simba Jike. Remember! My teacher saw the graves on this mountain. He also saw a third grave. He said it will open soon and you must not fall into it.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” snapped Harry. “We’ve got enough to handle without him stirring up trouble.”
Jade held up a hand for silence. “Harry, Jelani is my responsibility.”
“Then you can figure out where to put him.”
“I will stay with the mpishi ,” Jelani declared, pointing to the cook. “Muturi is from my village.”
“Good,” said Jade. “Now, please say nothing more, Jelani. It will only frighten everyone needlessly. Since you brought Biscuit, I’m putting you in charge of him. Now, Harry, what next?”
Harry clamped his hat back on his head. “We sleep here tonight, and tomorrow we get ourselves up the mountain.”
SAM HAD NEVER felt so much like cursing as he did the afternoon after Jade left on the train. The thought of her on safari with Hascombe was maddening enough, but this feeling went beyond jealousy. Ever since Wheeler’s stabbing, Sam
—The Traveler
“STOWAWAYS?” JADE RAN TOWARDS HARRY. HE STOOD IN FRONT OF the baggage car, hands on his narrow hips, glaring at someone as yet hidden from Jade’s sight. She heard a chirp, her first clue to the identities.
“Jelani?” she asked when she beheld the youth. He stood beside the crates, arms folded across his slender chest, face resolute and defiant. Biscuit, a makeshift leather leash tied to his collar, stood beside him. The lad wore the same knee-length shorts as in his teacher’s hut, along with a faded brown long-sleeved shirt. The shirt was unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His feet were strapped into a pair of leather sandals that had been mended so often little remained of the original work. His black eyes locked onto Harry and, without so much as a glance in Jade’s direction, he spoke.
“We are here, Simba Jike, to guard you.”
Harry cut loose in a whoop of laughter, then stifled it when he saw Jade’s serious expression. “The devil,” he said. “And since when does Simba Jike need the protection of a boy? Or anyone, for that matter?”
Jelani did not deign to answer, but turned towards Jade and jumped out of the car. “My teacher sent me,” he said.
Harry pulled his hat off and scratched his head. “I thought I saw one extra body when the gear was transferred at Voi. Rascal must have slipped out of the car unnoticed, carried boxes to the new cars, and just stayed in there, though how he managed to get Biscuit past everyone is beyond me.”
“Jelani, I’m always happy to see you, but you’ll be in trouble again. You don’t have travel permits.” Jade looked him over. “You must be thirsty and starving, too.”
“Do not worry for me, Simba Jike.” He held out the metal canister that contained his kipande , or documents. “You signed my paper to work for you, remember? I carried gourds of water and bought fruit at the Voi station. Biscuit hunted for birds when everyone ate in the station. I bought a chicken for him when you stopped today.”
“You used your hut tax money to buy food?” asked Jade.
Jelani grinned for the first time. “No, I used the money that Bwana Nyati paid me for moving the boxes.” He nodded in Harry’s direction.
“The devil,” repeated Harry. “Well, you’re here, so I won’t send you back. But I’m not paying you again.”
Jelani shrugged.
“Leave him alone, Harry,” said Jade. “Jelani works for me. I’ll pay his wages.” She turned back to the youth. “But why does your teacher think I need to be protected? He already warned me about two deaths. That was over when the African man killed the American in Nairobi and then himself.”
Jelani shook his head. “No, Simba Jike. Remember! My teacher saw the graves on this mountain. He also saw a third grave. He said it will open soon and you must not fall into it.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” snapped Harry. “We’ve got enough to handle without him stirring up trouble.”
Jade held up a hand for silence. “Harry, Jelani is my responsibility.”
“Then you can figure out where to put him.”
“I will stay with the mpishi ,” Jelani declared, pointing to the cook. “Muturi is from my village.”
“Good,” said Jade. “Now, please say nothing more, Jelani. It will only frighten everyone needlessly. Since you brought Biscuit, I’m putting you in charge of him. Now, Harry, what next?”
Harry clamped his hat back on his head. “We sleep here tonight, and tomorrow we get ourselves up the mountain.”
SAM HAD NEVER felt so much like cursing as he did the afternoon after Jade left on the train. The thought of her on safari with Hascombe was maddening enough, but this feeling went beyond jealousy. Ever since Wheeler’s stabbing, Sam
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