The Promised One Read online

  The next morning Richard looked at Helen’s leg again. There were two angry red pustules in the sites she had indicated and he thought there might be a third spot just appearing on another toe. He thought for some time before speaking. Helen and Julian both looked at him expectantly.

  ‘Before I go any further,’ he eventually said, ‘can I just check on something? Am I right in thinking that you said you’d gone to Africa before coming to South America?’ Helen and Julian both looked puzzled.

  ‘Why yes,’ she replied, ‘we spent three months at a site near Dinguiraye in Guinea in West Africa – but what’s that got to do with it?’

  Richard seemed not to hear her question but pressed on more eagerly. ‘And were you near a lake or river?’

  ‘Actually, yes. We were excavating in a river gorge, in the various beds the river had flowed in over millions of years; the course of the present river is still in the same gorge a few hundred yards away from our site.’ They both looked intently at Richard who had clearly made a diagnosis.

  ‘They may well be badly infected bites,’ he said, ‘but I’m suspicious that they may be something else, something I read about as a medical student but never saw a case of during my brief career of medical practice.’

  ‘What do you think it is?’ asked Helen.

  ‘I may of course be completely wrong,’ said Richard, ‘but there is a worm called the Guinea worm. Its scientific name is Dracunculus something – yes, that’s it, Dracunculus medinensis. It is a parasitic worm that infests humans. It lives in a minute water crustacean and when someone swallows contaminated water the larvae develop into worms that pass through the body tissues down to the legs – it may take them months to do this – and then form blisters out of which new larvae emerge, get into water, infect the crustaceans and start the whole cycle again. It only lives in the tropics, which is why I never saw a case in London. It is believed that as the worms get near the surface of the skin they can somehow sense the presence of water if the leg is immersed and become more active. That’s why I was so interested in your bath story. I presume you haven’t had your leg in water since then?’

  ‘No,’ said Helen. ‘As you can see, it takes us all our time to carry enough to drink, never mind bathe. Can you do anything for it?’ She looked terrified. ‘It sounds like some horrible science fiction story about aliens.’

  ‘Villagers in affected tribes entice the worm out with water and then start to wind it round a twig; they wind a little more each day until the whole worm is out – it’s important not to hurry the process or the worm may break leaving a fragment behind that can’t be removed.’ He turned to Julian. ‘Perhaps …’ he started to speak, but Julian had grabbed a container and was already running to the cliff to get water. When he returned they immersed Helen’s foot and within an hour they could see that Richard’s diagnosis was correct: from one of the spots the end of a worm emerged and Richard gently wound it round a specimen stick from one of Helen’s scientific test tubes. He then carefully wrapped a bandage around the leg to protect the twig.

  ‘There,’ he said. ‘We’ll get more of the little blighter tomorrow and her sisters as soon as they appear. It’s a gruesome experience for you but at least we know what it is and there’s a good chance we can clear it up. You may be interested to know that it’s thought these worms were the ‘fiery serpents’ that afflicted the Children of Israel during their migration from Egypt. An ancient brass model actually exists that depicts Moses winding out such a ‘serpent’ on a rod.’

  Helen who had turned white during the procedure had now recovered her composure.

  ‘I think you’re absolutely brilliant to have remembered that from medical school and I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done – even though it’s just about the worst thing I could imagine having.’ Julian nodded in agreement, then insisted that she sat and rested for the rest of the day while he and Richard set to work on the beacon.

  By nightfall they had put together a pile of wood from fallen trees and branches that would have graced the most ambitious of Guy Fawkes parties. Julian used a climbing rope to haul the larger branches to the site and Richard, who was gradually getting more mobile, stacked the wood into a bonfire mound. Helen and Julian had fire-lighters and matches as part of their camping equipment and these items were now kept next to the beacon in a waterproof box.

  They fell asleep that night weary, but encouraged by the thought that they had at least done something positive towards their possible survival.

  The days passed and soon Richard felt fit enough to replace Helen on her foraging trips with Julian. This meant that she could rest her leg, and that both the food-gatherers could run back quickly to the plane should the need arise.

  For the next three months life followed a similar pattern for the trio, the men collecting food and water while Helen stayed near the plane and the nearby beacon. They had agreed that one of them should always remain close to it just in case a search plane appeared in the sky one magic day. As the weeks passed, however, they all knew in their hearts that this was never going to happen and that they were doomed to spend the rest of their days in their lost world.

  13

  Cruising with Crocodiles

  As Lucy cruised up the river, following her escape from the camp, the rising sun finally escaped from the clouds of dawn on the eastern horizon. She thought she had never seen such a beautiful sight as the morning sun shining through the canopy of the immense forest, a million dewdrops glistening like diamonds on every tree. Soon, brilliantly coloured parrots flew above searching for their breakfast fruits and Lucy was startled as a troop of howler monkeys started their deafening morning chorus. Tinkling sounds like a mandolin came from the roots of the giant trees lining the river as musical frogs greeted the day, and countless insects filled the air with humming and buzzing. At the sound of these Lucy scrabbled in her bag and took out the insect repellent that Maria had kindly provided. She didn’t know whether the insect world in general was sufficiently aware of her exalted position to leave her alone, but it seemed wise to be on the safe side.

  The monkey that Lucy had come to think of as the queen animal saw what she was doing and, coming to her side, sniffed in curiosity at the repellent. Lucy explained its purpose and the monkey reassured her.

  ‘You now need have no fear, O Promise, of any creature that is not sick. Even the squitohums and the buzzithorns will not harm you. All you need fear is the Brilliant One, for your skin is fair and without fur.’ Lucy was relieved to hear this and swapped her repellent for the tube of suncream. Now in full daylight she could see her rescuers properly for the first time. The black spider monkeys had long hairy limbs and faces surmounted by stiff, black, ragged caps of fur which Lucy could only think of as being ‘punk’ haircuts. Their most striking feature, however, was their tail. Much longer than the body, it was like a fifth limb and curled automatically round anything it touched. The monkeys sat around the sides of the boat and chattered excitedly among themselves, never taking their eyes off Lucy for very long.

  After a couple of hours the queen spoke to the caymans and they pulled the boat into the bank.

  ‘We will stop for a while,’ said the queen turning to Lucy, ‘for there are three that wish to join us, and we will gather some food for you to eat.’

  Lucy jumped out on to the bank and as she did so heard a deep and wonderful voice which she recognized as being that of the female jaguar that had been brought into the camp the previous evening.

  ‘Welcome, O Precious One, I come to guard thee on thy journey,’ said the jaguar and Lucy became aware of a shadow moving silently through the undergrowth. The bushes parted and she caught her breath: before her stood the most beautiful creature she had ever laid eyes on. It was a black panther with eyes as green as emeralds, glistening fangs and muscles rippling effortlessly under its stunning fur. Lucy had read a great deal about her favourite animal and knew that occasionally both jaguars and leopards were born black, a melanist
ic variant. She had never seen such an animal, however, and was lost in amazement at its savage beauty.

  ‘Thy beauty puts all creatures to shame, O Dark One,’ said Lucy, horrified to think of the agony and degradation that had been the fate intended for this animal by Chopper’s gang at the camp. ‘I shall fear naught with thee by my side.’ The animal purred with pleasure at her words and when Lucy sat on the root of a giant tree she stretched herself at her feet.

  Soon the monkeys brought her fruits and plants to eat. Most she did not recognize but they were all delicious and for the first time since being taken captive she felt relaxed and truly hungry. One monkey had brought some nuts and Lucy tried ineffectually to break one open with a stone. She heard the queen call into the forest and soon an agouti appeared through the undergrowth. The rabbit-sized rodent seized the nut and cracked it as though it were a peapod, then proffered the kernel to Lucy. It systematically cracked a dozen nuts, leaving them in a neat pile, and then disappeared without a word. The queen monkey noticed how impressed Lucy had been by this feat.

  ‘The scurridents speak but little,’ she said, ‘but they can rend asunder the fruits of wood that the jaws of greater creatures cannot breach.’ Lucy was grateful for the explanation and felt she should comment on the range of animal skills being put at her disposal.

  ‘The different creatures of the forest have already done many things to assist me,’ she said to the queen, ‘and all are masters of their skills, but why …’ she looked across at the panther ‘… why do I need the protection of the ebony junglefang? No animals seem to wish to harm me once they are aware of who I am.’

  ‘We cannot be sure that every creature will be aware of you in time,’ replied the queen, ‘and if an animal has been bitten by one of the flitterkin it may take leave of its senses and attack you. We must take the junglefang to guard you. There is nothing in the forest that she fears.’

  Lucy did not understand the full import of this remark at the time, but years later, when in her veterinary studies she learnt that vampire bats could transmit rabies to animals, she was to remember this conversation and marvel once again at the care and concern the animals of the forest had shown her.

  Later, another group of monkeys returned with some massive moriche palm leaves and attempted to arrange them in the boat as a shelter from the sun for Lucy. When Lucy saw what they were trying to do she asked them to fetch some springy saplings and some vine tendrils and showed them how to fashion an archway across the boat, covered with the large leaves to form a sun canopy. Just as they finished the monkey spoke again:

  ‘The others who would serve thee approach.’ At the queen’s words Lucy looked up to see a cross between a panda and a raccoon bounding towards her. It was the size of a dog with a long tail marked with beautiful rings. It was restless and inquisitive, sniffing all the members of the party in turn before sitting at Lucy’s feet looking up at her with bright, intelligent eyes.

  ‘We know the Tailless Ones make special friends such as the furriclaws and the wolfkin,’ the queen explained, ‘and as you are alone I have asked the coatikin to serve you.’ Lucy was enchanted; she had recognized the coati mundi immediately from the pictures in Grandpa’s book and she was impressed at the monkey’s kindness in providing her with a substitute for a cat or dog.

  ‘Greetings, O Promised One. I will be at your side throughout your quest.’ The coati had a silvery, melodious voice that Lucy fell in love with on the spot. The animal asked permission to touch her and then came and nuzzled her, licking her hands and rubbing her legs with its soft fur.

  ‘I shall call you Katherine,’ said Lucy. ‘In fact, Katy Coati.’

  ‘I am honoured to be so named,’ replied the coati proudly, leaving Lucy’s side for a moment to scamper round the group several times like a playful puppy, giving yelps of delight. Lucy had already been thinking about names – it seemed rather rude not to call her travelling companions by individual names – and she turned to the queen and her two daughters.

  ‘And, if I may, I shall call you Queenie,’ she said to the mother, ‘because I think of you as a queen among monkeys. Your daughters I shall call Sophie and Clio.’

  Queenie and her daughters were just as pleased as the coati to have names of their own and Lucy felt happy that her instincts had been correct.

  ‘And you,’ she turned to the panther, ‘I shall call Melanie.’ The great cat once again purred with pleasure and, overcome with embarrassment, started grooming itself.

  ‘And now,’ said Queenie, ‘I have something else for you.’ She stood with her forepaw behind her back and her daughters watched and fidgeted with excitement. Lucy was overcome with curiosity as the monkey brought her paw round and quickly cupped her other paw over whatever it was she was holding, so Lucy couldn’t see. Then she gradually opened a gap between her fingers and a tiny face peeped out, surrounded by a little mane of golden-black hair. The pygmy marmoset was only the size of a mouse but looked exactly like a miniature lion. Lucy squealed with delight and held out her hands. The little creature sat up in the monkey’s hands and said in a tiny, tinkling voice, ‘Greetings, O Special One!’ Then, somewhat shyly Lucy thought, ‘May I touch your exquisite locks?’ Lucy, of course, gave permission, though not without some embarrassment. She did have beautiful, dark-brown hair but after several days of kidnap and untold hours flying in prison class she couldn’t help feeling that the marmoset’s description was a little over the top. The tiny creature, ignoring her outstretched hands, sprang straight on to her shoulder and stroked her hair with its tiny paws. She could feel its furry mane tickling her ear and started giggling – much to the astonishment of the entire group, who had never before observed this phenomenon in any creature. Lucy, realizing the cause of their consternation, reassured them that it only meant she was happy and not to worry if she did it again. She carefully removed the diminutive monkey from her shoulder and spoke to her.

  ‘I am fortunate indeed to have a lion at my side as well as a panther. I shall call you Michelle – Michelle Marmoset.’ The tiny creature frolicked with delight on the palm of Lucy’s hand and then leapt back on to her shoulder. She was so light Lucy was hardly aware of her tiny burden.

  When they were ready to leave one of the caymans spoke.

  ‘Fare thee well, O Promised One. We return now to our own waters. Our cousins will assist thee in thy further quest.’ His voice was like the cold, black, forbidding depths of an ancient, hostile river. Lucy shuddered at the very thought of what it would be like to have these reptiles as foes rather than friends. With a flick of their tails they swept away down the river and as they did so two nearby shapes, which Lucy had until then imagined to be the timber of fallen trees, revealed themselves to be caymans by suddenly moving and slithering into the river to take up the mooring ropes in their formidable jaws.

  The heat of the tropical afternoon was almost unbearable. Lucy was thankful for the canopy that had been erected but the humidity of the air in the jungle was very oppressive and she was soaked in perspiration. As the boat glided along under the lazy power of the caymans the air was filled with exotic sights and sounds. Immense trees came right to the water’s edge and sometimes overhung the river almost to its centre. Long creepers hung from many of the trees and Lucy could easily imagine a Tarzan-like figure swinging from rope to rope above the impenetrable undergrowth. Some creepers trailed right across the river above their heads, and monkeys and other creatures could be seen using them as bridges. Macaws, cockatoos, toucans with their giant beaks and humming birds flashed across the river with feathers of dazzling hues. Iridescent dragonflies as large as small birds darted hither and thither and butterflies, cicadas and myriad unnamed insects filled the still air with their sounds and flutterings. These ceaseless noises of nature were the only ones to be heard and for a girl who had spent her entire life in the suburbs of a great city the absence of any man-made noise from traffic, trains or aeroplanes was almost uncanny. After a while there was some discussi
on among the monkeys and Queenie turned tentatively towards Lucy.

  ‘Promised One –’ she began ‘– the remainder of my kin would be greatly honoured to be given names by She Who Speaks.’ Lucy looked around the little group of eager faces. There were three females and two males. She quickly thought of the names of some of her classmates.

  ‘Of course,’ she smiled, pointing to them in turn. ‘You’re Elizabeth, you’re Julia, you’re Eloise, you’re Dominic and you’re Ed.’ The monkeys fidgeted with pride and pleasure and Lucy prayed that she would be able to remember which one was which.

  Lucy was entranced by the beautiful butterflies, of which there seemed to be countless different species. The morpho butterflies were particularly striking in that they were as large as birds, some blue, some white, and they fluttered incessantly across the river. After watching her with interest for a while Queenie spoke:

  ‘You keep watching the flutterkin. Do you wish me to catch some for you?’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Lucy, ‘I just like to watch them.’

  ‘But why should you watch them if you do not wish to eat them and they cannot hurt you?’

  ‘Because they are beautiful,’ replied Lucy.

  Queenie did not reply. Lucy wondered what was going on in her mind and whether the concept of beauty for its own sake was utterly beyond her comprehension.

  Lucy sat in the stern of the boat, her hand on the rudder, enjoying the power of steering the craft as she chose. She looked at her lithe protectress stretched at her feet. The cat was washing herself, licking and biting at her claws and now and then licking her paws and the inside of her forelegs and using them to wash her ears and face. She looked for all the world like Tibbles on the mat at home. Sitting near to the great cat Lucy now saw that her coat was not uniformly black but that the blotches and patches that formed the beautiful markings of a normal jaguar were just visible as slightly different shades within her fur. The effect made the coat even more attractive at close quarters. The monkeys sat at the front of the boat and Lucy noticed that they all kept a respectable distance between themselves and the cat. For an instant she was overwhelmed by the sheer wonder of her situation. Here she was in the middle of a remote jungle, a savage panther at her feet and a troop of vicious-looking monkeys for companions, being towed by caymans along a river teeming with flesh-eating piranha fish and untold weird creatures such as sea cows, sting-rays, turtles, giant otters, electric eels and water snakes. For a moment she wondered if she was still under anaesthesia after her accident and would soon wake up to real life in a London hospital. But she touched the scar on her head and felt the swellings where her fractured ribs were almost healed and knew that this was the real world – one that for her would never be the same as the one she had left for ever as she crashed to a suburban pavement. The boat thrust silently on through the interminable jungle as Lucy gradually nodded and then slept, utterly secure among the paws and claws of her devoted guardians.