Africa Zero Read Online Free Page A

turn to the west again
then resume their course to the south.”
    I
began to entertain a nasty suspicion. “This difficult terrain they are
avoiding. Would it have a name by any chance?”
    Spitfire
and her father looked at each other, each waiting for the other to speak. It
was Jethro Susan who spoke.
    “Z’gora.”
She said it like a curse.
    The
name was familiar.
    “Z’gora
. . . Z’gora ...” Then I remembered. “The Zag people. They’re the ones with
some unusual pets. I got a sample there about fifty years ago. Don’t they have
some nasty habits?”
    Spitfire
and her father made quick warding gestures.
    Jethro
Susan said, “If we went through Z’gora we could make up a day, perhaps more...”
    I
looked at her. “I know I should not ask this, but are you up to it?”
    She
snorted contemptuously and tapped the side of her rifle. “I’ve been through
there before. They’re easy enough to handle. You just don’t let them get too
close.”
    “Very
well then. We go through Z’gora.”
    Spitfire
and her father moved away from the fire and took off into the night.
    “When
will we get there?” I asked.
    “Midday
tomorrow,” said Jethro Susan, and rolled herself up in her blanket.
    I
sat through the rest of the night with the patience of a machine.
    * * *
    In
the morning Jethro Susan climbed an ambatch tree to take sightings back from
the Atlas Mountains, and from some mountains she said should be to the
southeast of us. Once she had scrambled back to the ground again she looked at
her compass and pointed to a wall of jungle to our right.
    “That
way,” she said, then removed her pack and dropped it on the ground. I wondered
what she was doing for a moment until she removed a formidable looking panga.
    “You
carry my pack. I’ll start.”
    I
let her lead on. I picked up her pack and followed. She was being foolish, and
I think perhaps she realised this, but she was a stubborn woman with a point to
prove. She started on the wall of jungle as if it had offered her personal
affront. For two hours she hacked a path for us before she started to show any
signs of slowing. Of course it was not her arm that was tiring, but the rest of
her musculature—the part of her that was flesh. I let her go at it for another
hour before I called a halt.
    “Okay,
I’ll take over now,” I said.
    Jethro
Susan turned and looked at me as if suspecting me of sarcasm. There was none to
find. I took the panga from her and handed her our packs. I tried not to let
the next few hours look easy for me, but I guess what gave it away was my lack
of sweat. When we broke through into thinner growth we could push through I
handed her panga back and congratulated her on its keenness. She accepted it
with a look of annoyance and threw my pack at me. I caught it and put it on.
    At
midday we had not reached Z’gora as predicted and we halted so Jethro Susan
could rest. I took the opportunity to do some scouting. We were close to the
Zag peoples and some of them might be about.
    “I’m
just going for a look around.”
    Jethro
Susan rubbed at her shoulder and nodded acquiescence. I left my pack by her and
moved off into the jungle as quietly as I could. It is surprising how quietly
you can move when you have accumulated decades of experience, and when there
are no fatigue poisons in you, and no lungs. I circled our stopping place
looking for signs of movement. Like Jethro Susan I climbed a couple of trees.
As I crept back I saw Jethro Susan sitting on a log rummaging through her pack.
I moved very quietly, not for her sake, but for the man decked out in feathers
and dyed hyrax skins who was creeping up behind her.
    I
got to about three feet behind him when he was the same distance behind her. He
raised a wooden spike with a suspicious-looking green tarry substance on it. I
tapped him on the shoulder.
    “Excuse
me.”
    He
yelled. Jethro Susan yelled and fell off her log. Annoyed, because he had
passed me without me seeing him, I broke his