God’s Birds, Hector thought to himself. This was why he was here: to decide the rights of ownership over this green wilderness and the brilliant coloured plumage of the birds that lived within it. He scanned the jungle canopy, but could see nothing.
The next call was shockingly close by, no more than ten yards away. It came not from the branches high above him, but from the lip of the stream bank just to his right. He looked in that direction and, as he did so, a man stepped into view. He was, at most, five feet tall. Small-boned, with a thick bush of wiry black hair surrounding a head far too large for his body, he was completely naked except for a loincloth. He had a gourd hanging on a cord around his neck, and in his hand was a bamboo hoop to which clung three small, bright red and green parrots.
The extraordinary apparition looked at Hector and his companion for a long, slow interval. Then the grave face broke into a shy smile. Turning away from Hector, he faced into the jungle, lifted his free hand and pinched his nose. He took in a breath through his mouth and let loose a loud, metallic squawk through one nostril.
Somewhere in the distance the call was answered. The forest man was a bird hunter, tracking down his prey.
Cautiously Hector clambered up the bank and approached the stranger, careful not to frighten him. The little man had the manner of a timid forest creature who might suddenly take flight. ‘Salaam aleikum,’ Hector said gently. The man bobbed his head in a friendly way and stood his ground, but made no reply. The three gaily coloured parrots twittered and scrabbled on their perch, using beaks and claws to maintain their grip. Hector looked back enquiringly at his Omoro guide, who shrugged helplessly. It seemed the Omoro did not speak the newcomer’s language. Hector turned back to the bird catcher. ‘Is there a way to Haar from here?’ he asked in English. Large brown eyes regarded him wonderingly, and Hector thought to himself it was probably the first time the little man had seen someone with a pale skin and grey eyes. Hector raised his left hand, palm upwards, and made a walking motion across it with the fingers of his right hand. Then he pointed uphill and spread his arms wide, indicating a broader track.
The bird catcher considered for a moment, then beckoned Hector to follow. He turned and made his way between the trees, angling across the slope of the hill. Keeping up was difficult. The little man slipped nimbly through the forest, casually dangling his parrot perch. From time to time he paused and waited for Hector and his Omoro escort to catch up. Eventually, after some fifteen minutes, he came to a stop and pointed uphill. They were on the edge of what must have been a landslip some years earlier. A substantial section of the hillside had collapsed from the rim above and slid downslope. The torrent of rock and earth had swept away the taller trees and left a deep scar down the flank of the hill. They were standing at the midway point of the landslide, and, looking downslope to his right, Hector could see where the narrow coastal plain began.
Hector hid his disappointment. The gash in the forest caused by the landslide might once have provided an open track up the steep hill, but the undergrowth had grown back with tropical vigour in the intervening years. The way to the summit was now completely choked with a tangled mass of bushes, shrubs, saplings and ground creepers. It was impossible as a roadway for a heavy cannon.
‘Thank you, thank you very much,’ he said, nodding and smiling.
The bird catcher gave another of his shy smiles and gestured that he was willing to lead them towards the crest in the direction of Haar. But Hector had seen enough. He was despondent and tired, and it was time to return to the beach to report his findings. He shook his head and retraced his steps to where he had left the stream. The bird catcher darted ahead. Within moments he had outdistanced them and disappeared altogether. Hector slipped and slithered for another few paces until he again heard the metallic bird call. This time it definitely came from the treetops. Looking over to his right, he was astonished to see the bird catcher gazing down at him. The little man was perched forty feet off the ground on the branch of a huge tree, and was tying his parrots to the branches.
Raising a hand, he waved them goodbye.
‘ONE OF THE forest people,’ said Mansur, when Hector got back to camp and reported what he’d seen. ‘They bring their catch, alive or skinned, to the town, sell them and then vanish back into the jungle. They are subject to no one, nor do they believe in Allah.’
They were standing beside the brass cannon, now back on its wooden gun carriage.
‘How much do you think the gun weighs?’ asked Mansur.
‘About half a ton,’ said Dan.
‘Let me talk to the kora-kora men to see if they can bring it to Haar by the route he showed you,’ said the chamberlain. He went to confer with several of the older men from the crew of the big war canoe, and returned to say that they were confident they could haul the gun up the steep incline.
‘Did you warn them the slope is overgrown with bushes and small trees?’ Hector asked.
‘I did, but they aren’t worried,’ said Mansur soothingly. ‘They say they will make a start tomorrow at dawn. All you need to do is bring them to the base of the landslide.’
Hector kept his doubts to himself next morning as he watched the Omoro dismantle the bamboo raft and use the materials to build a sturdy sledge. Within half an hour the cannon was balanced on its new platform and on the move. Thirty men tugged it along by the long rattans they used for ropes. Another team went ahead with heavy knives and slashed a path through the bush. Others placed skids under the runners of the sledge whenever it was checked. At the rear walked those with the jars of gunpowder, bullets and stores. Four men carried each lantaka slung on loops between them. Jezreel insisted on carrying the two precious round shots, one in each hand. When they arrived at the place where the ground began to rise steeply, the column came to a halt. Here, at the base of the landslip, the porters set down their loads and the hauling team paused to rest. With a clatter Jacques dropped the gunner’s tools he had been carrying and sat down on the ground beside Hector.
‘I wonder what those lads are up to?’ said the Frenchman. They watched a group of the younger men clambering up the landslip until they vanished over the crest of the slope.
A few minutes later Mansur came walking towards them. ‘The kora-kora men say where you are sitting is dangerous.’
Puzzled, Hector got to his feet, and he and Jacques moved aside. Soon afterwards there was a shrill whistle from above, immediately followed by a crashing noise, which grew in volume and suddenly came closer. A moment later a large tree trunk came slithering and bouncing wildly down the hill, and came to rest at the bottom of the landslide. Almost immediately a second massive log came careering down, following in the track of the previous one. As Hector looked on, a dozen more logs hurtled past, one after another, throwing up sprays of dirt as they ploughed through the ground.
There was another whistle from above, and the bombardment of timber stopped. The hauling team got to their feet. Hector hurried to help them tip the gun from its carriage, then attach their hauling cables to the trunnions. He had seen how the slithering logs had carved out the track up which the men now intended to pull their burden. Two teams of forty men began to heave in unison, gradually sliding the gun up the groove that the logs had gouged in the earth. Every few minutes they stopped to rest. Then the heaving began again. An hour later the cannon was over the lip of the plateau and on level ground. The gun carriage and the sledge followed.
‘The Omoro say that Haar is less than half a mile ahead,’ said Dan. ‘We need to take a look at the town’s defences before we go any farther.’