Acacia - Secrets of an African Painting

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT - ON THE TRAIL

  The three men left Kwekwe, squeezed onto the bench seat of the old truck. Mthoko drove, with the witchdoctor sitting in the middle and the old man from Bulawayo on the far side.

  Mthoko mused as they drove, about the reasons for them chasing the two white tourists. They had seemed harmless enough when they had come to him and Gatsheni had not told him why they must be followed, or why they should die. He assumed that was to be the outcome of this adventure, although he had not been told as much yet. He had no problem with killing another man or woman if the reasons were right, but he did have an objection to causing the death of innocent people, so he determined that before he took part in anyone’s death, the old man would tell him why he was doing so.

  As they crossed the Shangani River and back into Matabeleland, Gatsheni gave a sigh of relief: he didn’t like to be outside the traditional, albeit arbitrary boundaries of his homeland for too long. He always felt a surge of energy fill his body when he returned and he said a silent word of praise to the spirits.

  He could feel the atmosphere in the cab and knew that these two men with him were only here because of the money he had offered. He also knew that they would carry out his bidding only as long as they believed that payment would be forthcoming. That was a problem he would have to face when he came to it, but for now, the advance he had given them should be enough to convince them of his sincerity. Perhaps he would simply have the amadoda kill them too as well as the white people. Yes, that would indeed be a neat solution to the problem.

  He could also sense the chase now he was getting closer to his quarry and he could almost smell the couple up ahead somewhere, so he had to restrain himself from urging the young driver on too fast.

  He mustn’t tip the white man off too soon, as he was counting on them to lead him to the diamonds before he ordered their destruction. The diamonds would save his people: he couldn’t stop the thought coming back to him again and again and he once more day-dreamed of the time when he would present them to the people and accept their adoration for the work he had done.

  They reached Nkayi, and as they came into the village, Mthoko spotted the white couple’s car up ahead, outside the store.

  ‘Quickly, drive behind that shed there.’ Gatsheni ordered, pointing to a shabby building by the side of the street. As they turned off the road, they could all see the white man staring back at them, shielding his eyes from the sun trying to pierce the glare coming off the glass in front of them.

  ‘He knows of us.’ The witchdoctor spoke, ‘This one has the sense; he can see what cannot be seen. We must take care with him or he will find us out.’ He looked Gatsheni in the eye, but the old man continued to watch his foe until the shed blocked his view.

  ‘He will be no match for me.’ He said, perhaps to himself as he looked at no one. ‘The Warriors of the Matabele Nation will wash their spears in his blood and celebrate as the earth reclaims him.’

  The other two men simply shrugged at the old man’s words. ‘We should wait until they have driven out of the town.’ Mthoko said. ‘We can track them easily wherever they go from here.’

  So they waited, only continuing their journey when the hired 4x4 had disappeared from view. They carried on along the narrow road, always ensuring that they drove slowly. Once or twice they spotted their prey far ahead in the distance, but each time they stopped for a few minutes to give the others time to get ahead again. There was nowhere to go from this road, no turnoffs for miles, so all they had to do was follow along behind and wait for the others to make the first move.

  Gatsheni guessed they would leave the road at some point and so they started to concentrate their energies on watching for the signs of where that point was. They didn’t look closely enough however, and after another twenty or thirty kilometres, they decided they must have missed them and had to backtrack.

  It was dark by the time they picked up the trail once again and they pulled over to the side of the road, checking the terrain for any hazards before risking the bakkie. As they stood there, they heard the far off call of a wild dog, but paid it no attention. The time to follow again would be tomorrow. With a rev of the engine, they pulled off the road and stopped a few metres in, just out of sight. Then they threw down blankets onto the ground and promptly rolled themselves up and fell asleep.