The Eye of the Leopard by Henning Mankell Page B

tree,’ LeMarque says. ‘When he wanted to be alone and meditate, he used to come here, and no one was allowed to bother him. I’ve also seen a photograph of him sitting in this spot. He was short but he was physically very strong. He also had a keen sense of humour. Some of the older Africans still remember him. When he was angry he could lift a baby elephant over his head. That’s not true, of course, but as an illustration of his strength the image is good.’
    He sets down his coffee cup. ‘I’ll show you his grave. Then I must go back to my work. Our pumping station has broken down.’
    They walk along a winding path that leads up a hill. Through the dense thickets they glimpse the reflection of the river.
    ‘Don’t go there without Joseph,’ says LeMarque. ‘There are many crocodiles in the river.’
    The terrain levels out and forms a mesa on top of the high hill. Olofson finds himself facing a simple wooden cross.
    ‘Harry Johanson’s grave,’ says LeMarque. ‘Every four years we have to put up a new cross because the termites eat them. But he wanted to have a wooden cross on his grave. We comply with his wish.’
    ‘What did he dream about?’ asks Olofson.
    ‘I don’t think he had much time for dreaming. A mission station in Africa requires constant practical work. One has to be a mechanic, carpenter, farmer, businessman. Harry Johanson was good at all those things.’
    ‘What about religion?’
    ‘Our message is planted in the maize fields. The gospel is an impossibility if it is not involved in daily life. Conversion is a matter of bread and health.’
    ‘But in spite of everything, conversion is the crucial thing? Conversion from what?’
    ‘Superstition, poverty, and sorcery.’
    ‘Superstition I can understand. But how can one convert someone from poverty?’
    ‘The message instils confidence. Wisdom requires the courage to face life.’
    Hans Olofson thinks of Janine. ‘Was Harry Johanson happy?’ he asks.
    ‘Who knows the innermost thoughts of another human being?’ says LeMarque.
    They head back the way they came.
    ‘I never met Harry Johanson, after all,’ says LeMarque. ‘But he must have been a colourful and wilful person. The older he got, the less he felt he understood. He accepted that Africa remained a foreign world.’
    ‘Can a person live long in a foreign world without trying to recreate it so that it resembles the world he left behind?’
    ‘We had a young priest from Holland here once. Courageous and strong, self-sacrificing. But one day, with no warning, he got up from the dinner table and walked straight out into the bush. Purposefully, as if he knew where he was going.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘He was never seen again. His goal must have been to be swallowed up, never to return. Something in him snapped.’
    Olofson thinks of Joseph and his sisters and brothers. ‘What do the blacks really think?’ he asks.
    ‘They get to know us through the God we give them.’
    ‘Don’t they have their own gods? What do you do with them?’
    ‘Let them disappear on their own.’
    Wrong, Olofson thinks. But maybe a missionary has to ignore certain things in order to endure.
    ‘I’ll find someone who can show you around,’ says LeMarque. ‘Unfortunately almost everyone who works here is out in thebush right now. They’re visiting the remote villages. I’ll ask Amanda to show you around.’
    Not until evening is Olofson shown the infirmary. The pale man, whose name is Dieter, informs him that Amanda Reinhardt, who LeMarque thought would show him around, is busy and asks his forgiveness.
    When he returns from Johanson’s grave Joseph is sitting by his door. He notices at once that Joseph is frightened.
    ‘I won’t say anything,’ he says.
    ‘Bwana
is a good
bwana,’
says Joseph.
    ‘Stop calling me
Bwana!’
    ‘Yes,
Bwana.’
    They walk down to the river and search for crocodiles without seeing any. Joseph shows him Mutshatsha’s extensive maize cultivation.