into the lane.
Kafrawi also sat squatting but much further away on the outskirts of the village trying to hide between the maize stalks in a field. From his hiding place he could hear voices coming closer, preceded by the yapping, barking and whining of thedog. He realized that they must have found out where he was hiding, so he stepped out of the maize field and clambered up the bank of the river. Some of the children spotted him and cried out, âKafrawi, Kafrawi!â, then started to run after him but he ran faster and arrived at the edge of the river. Before the dog tugging furiously at its leash with the policeman running behind it, had time to pounce on him he had thrown himself into the water. He did not know why he was running away, or where he was going.
He was just putting as much distance as he could between himself and something he feared, just going without knowing where to go. He did not know what had happened to him since the moment when he had been lying with the buffalo, until the moment when his body struck cold water.
He heard a splashing in the water and realized that someone was swimming rapidly towards him, getting closer and closer. He lunged out with his arms and legs, straining his sight to see the other shore as though there he would find safety and security. He had forgotten that on the other shore were the orange orchards owned by the Mayor of Kafr El Teen.
On the river bank were gathered the inhabitants of Kafr El Teen. They stood slightly in the background, and in front of them was a group composed of the officer with his dog, the Chief of the Village Guard, some of the village guards, and a few district policemen. Their eyes followed the two bodies swimming in the river, with the zeal of spectators watchinga race, and wondering who of the two would be the winner. When the distance between the two swimmers increased the villagers would experience a secret feeling of joy, for they were hoping that Kafrawi would manage to escape, and that the policeman would fail to catch up with him. Instinctively they felt Kafrawi was not a killer, or a criminal. They hated the policeman and his dogs, hated all policemen, all officers, all representatives of authority and the government. It was the hidden ancient hatred of peasants for their government. They knew that in some way or another they had always been the victims, always been exploited, even if most of the time they could not understand how it was happening.
The officer was watching the scene with a cold detachment, looking at his wrist watch every now and then as though he had an important appointment, and wanted to be over with this mission as quickly as possible. The dog also did not seem to care much about what was happening. It was lying on the river bank enjoying the sunshine, the green fields and the expanses of water as though long deprived of a chance to enjoy such natural beauty. The only person who seemed nervous was the Chief of the Village Guard. Every time the distance between the two swimmers decreased, he would shout out encouragingly, âWell done, Bayumi!â
His voice echoed in the ears of Bayumi like a clarion call, making him lunge out with his arms and legs more vigorously. Why this was so he could not himself understand. He had beenassigned the task of capturing this animal, and that was all. Further than that his mind refused to go. From the moment when the order âArrest himâ had resounded in his ears, he had launched himself in pursuit of the man like a projectile fired from a gun.
Kafrawiâs naked body stepped out of the water and leapt on to the shore threading its way through the trees of the orchard. Bayumi followed close behind, his body also naked except for the pair of baggy singlets which he still wore. He was tall, with wiry muscles, and his face, too, looked hard and narrow with sharp features which remained as rigid as cardboard. It was the face of a policeman expressing neither joy nor
Kafrawi also sat squatting but much further away on the outskirts of the village trying to hide between the maize stalks in a field. From his hiding place he could hear voices coming closer, preceded by the yapping, barking and whining of thedog. He realized that they must have found out where he was hiding, so he stepped out of the maize field and clambered up the bank of the river. Some of the children spotted him and cried out, âKafrawi, Kafrawi!â, then started to run after him but he ran faster and arrived at the edge of the river. Before the dog tugging furiously at its leash with the policeman running behind it, had time to pounce on him he had thrown himself into the water. He did not know why he was running away, or where he was going.
He was just putting as much distance as he could between himself and something he feared, just going without knowing where to go. He did not know what had happened to him since the moment when he had been lying with the buffalo, until the moment when his body struck cold water.
He heard a splashing in the water and realized that someone was swimming rapidly towards him, getting closer and closer. He lunged out with his arms and legs, straining his sight to see the other shore as though there he would find safety and security. He had forgotten that on the other shore were the orange orchards owned by the Mayor of Kafr El Teen.
On the river bank were gathered the inhabitants of Kafr El Teen. They stood slightly in the background, and in front of them was a group composed of the officer with his dog, the Chief of the Village Guard, some of the village guards, and a few district policemen. Their eyes followed the two bodies swimming in the river, with the zeal of spectators watchinga race, and wondering who of the two would be the winner. When the distance between the two swimmers increased the villagers would experience a secret feeling of joy, for they were hoping that Kafrawi would manage to escape, and that the policeman would fail to catch up with him. Instinctively they felt Kafrawi was not a killer, or a criminal. They hated the policeman and his dogs, hated all policemen, all officers, all representatives of authority and the government. It was the hidden ancient hatred of peasants for their government. They knew that in some way or another they had always been the victims, always been exploited, even if most of the time they could not understand how it was happening.
The officer was watching the scene with a cold detachment, looking at his wrist watch every now and then as though he had an important appointment, and wanted to be over with this mission as quickly as possible. The dog also did not seem to care much about what was happening. It was lying on the river bank enjoying the sunshine, the green fields and the expanses of water as though long deprived of a chance to enjoy such natural beauty. The only person who seemed nervous was the Chief of the Village Guard. Every time the distance between the two swimmers decreased, he would shout out encouragingly, âWell done, Bayumi!â
His voice echoed in the ears of Bayumi like a clarion call, making him lunge out with his arms and legs more vigorously. Why this was so he could not himself understand. He had beenassigned the task of capturing this animal, and that was all. Further than that his mind refused to go. From the moment when the order âArrest himâ had resounded in his ears, he had launched himself in pursuit of the man like a projectile fired from a gun.
Kafrawiâs naked body stepped out of the water and leapt on to the shore threading its way through the trees of the orchard. Bayumi followed close behind, his body also naked except for the pair of baggy singlets which he still wore. He was tall, with wiry muscles, and his face, too, looked hard and narrow with sharp features which remained as rigid as cardboard. It was the face of a policeman expressing neither joy nor
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