Sunbird by Wilbur Smith Page A

him again.'
    I wriggled forward against the reassuring solidity of the dead tree, and raised my voice in the most persuasive tones that would pass my parched throat.
    'I am your friend. Though you fly your arrows at me, I will not war with you. I have lived with your people, I am one with you. How else do I speak your language?'
    A deathly, impenetrable silence.
    'How else do I speak the tongue of the people?' I asked again, and strained my ears for a sound.
    Then the bushman spoke, his voice a high-pitched fluting, broken up with soft ducking and clicking sounds.
    'The devils of the forest speak in many tongues. I close my ears to your deceits.'
    'I am no devil. I have lived as one of yours. Did you never hear of the one named the Sunbird,' I used my bushman name, 'who stayed with the people of Xhai and became their brother?'
    Another long silence followed, but now I sensed that the little bushman was undecided, puzzled, no longer afraid and deadly.
    'Do you know of the old man named Xhai?'
    'I know of him,' admitted the bushman, and I breathed a little easier.
    'Did you hear of the one they called the Sunbird?'
    Another long pause, then reluctantly, 'I have heard men speak of it.'
    'I am that one.'
    Now the silence went on for ten minutes or more. I knew the bushman was considering my claim from every possible angle. At last he spoke again.
    'Xhai and I hunt together this season. Even now he comes, before darkness he will be here. We will wait for him.'
    'We will wait for him,' I agreed.
    'But if you move I will kill you,' warned the bushman, and I took him at his word.
    Xhai the old bushman came to my shoulder, and heaven knows I am no giant. He had the characteristically flattened features, with high cheekbones and oriental eyes, but his skin was dry and wrinkled, like an old yellow raisin. The wrinkling extended over his entire body as though he were covered with brittle parchment. The little peppercorns of hair on his scalp were smoky-grey with age, but his teeth were startling white and perfect, and his eyes were black and sparkling. I had often thought that they were pixie eyes, alive with mischief and intelligent curiosity.
    When I told him how his friend had tried to kill us, he thought it an excellent joke and went off into little grunting explosions of laughter, at the same time shyly covering his mouth with one hand. The younger bushman's name was Ghal, and he was married to one of Xhai's daughters, so Xhai felt free to josh him mercilessly.
    'Sunbird is a white ghost!' he wheezed. 'Shoot him, Ghal, quickly! Before he flies away.' Overwhelmed by his own humour, Xhai staggered in mirth-racked circles giving an imitation of how he thought a ghost would look as it flew away. Ghal was very embarrassed and looked down at his feet as he shuffled them in the dust. I chuckled weakly, the sound of flighted arrows very fresh in my memory.
    Xhai stopped laughing abruptly, and demanded anxiously, 'Sunbird. have you got tobacco?'
    'Oh. my God!' 1 said in English.
    'What is it?' Sally was alarmed by my tone, expecting that something else horrifying had happened.
    'Tobacco,' I said. 'We haven't any,' Neither Sally nor I used the stuff, but it is very precious to a bushman.
    'Louren left a box of cigars in the Land-Rover.' Sally reminded me 'Is that any use?'
    Both Ghal and Xhai were intrigued with the aluminium cylinders in which the Romeo and Juliette cigars were packed. After I showed them how to open them and remove the tobacco, they cooed and chattered with delight. Then Xhai sniffed the cigar like the true connoisseur he was, nodded approvingly and took a big bite. He chewed a while and then tucked the wad of sodden cigar up under his top lip. He passed the stub to Ghal who bit into it and followed Xhai's example. The two of them squatted on their haunches, positively glowing with contentment and my heart went out to them. It took so little to make them happy.
    They stayed with us that night, cooking on our fire a meal of