alarm bells in the minds of Ethiopian bureaucracy?"
"You are speaking to the man who has paid unofficial and uninvited
visits to both those charming lads Gadaffi and Saddam. Ethiopia should
be a Sunday-school picnic in comparison."
"When do the big rains start up in the mountains?" she asked suddenly.
"Yes!" His expression became serious. That is the jackpot question. You
only have to look at the high-water mark on the walls of Taita's pool to
have some idea what it must be like in there when the river is in full
flood." He flipped over the pages of his pocket diary. "Luckily, we
still have a bit of time - not a great deal, but'enough. We will need to
move pretty smartly. We have to get back home before I can start work on
planning phase two."
"We should pack up right away, then."
"Yes, we should. But it seems a damned shame not to take full advantage
of every moment we are here, having come all this way. I think we can
spare just a few more days to sound out some ideas that I have about
Taita's pool and the sink-hole, to try to arrive at some sort of
informed guess about what we will need when we return."
"You are the boss."
"My word, how pleasant to hear a lady say that." She smiled sweetly.
"Enjoy the moment," she counselled him, "it may never happen again." And
then she became serious again. "What are these ideas that you have?
"What goes up must come down, what goes in must come out," he said
mysteriously. "The water going into the sink'hole under such pressure
must be going somewhere.
Unless it joins a subterranean water system and makes its way into the
Nile that way, then it should come to the surface where we can find it."
"Go on," she invited.
40the thing is certain. Nobody is going to get into the sink-hole from
the pool. The pressure is lethal. But if we can find the outlet, we may
be able to explore it from the other end."
"That's a fascinating possibility." She looked impressed, and turned to
the satellite photograph. Nicholas had identified the monastery and
ringed it on the photograph.
He had marked in the approximate course of the river through the chasm,
although the gorge itself was too narrow and covered with bush to show
up on the smallscale picture, even under the high-powered magnifying
lens.
"Here is the point where the river enters the chasm." She pointed it out
to him. "And here is the side valley down which the trail detours.
Okay?"
"Okay," he nodded. "What are you driving at?"
"On our approach march, we remarked that this valley might at one time
have been the original course of the Dandera river, and that it seemed
to have cut a new bed for itself through the chasm."
"That's right,'Nicholas agreed. "I am still listening."
"The fall of the land towards the Nile is very steep at this point,
isn't it? Well, do you recall we crossed another smaller, but still
pretty substantial, stream on our way down the dry valley? That stream
seemed to emerge from somewhere on the eastern side of the valley."
All right, I am with you now. You are suggesting that this may be the
overflow from the sinkholes Clever little devil, aren't you?"
"Just capitalizing on your genius." She cast down her eyes modestly, and
looked up at him from under her lashes.
She was clowning, but her lashes were long and dense and curling, and
her eyes were the colour of burnt honey with tiny golden highlights in
their depths. At this close range he found them disturbing.
He stood up and suggested, "Why don't we go and take a look?"
Nicholas went to fetch his camera bag and the light day'pack from his
hut, and when he returned he found Royan ready to go. But she was not
alone.
I see that you are bringing your chaperon with you," he remarked with
resignation.
"Unless you are tough enough to send him away." Royan smiled
encouragement at Tamre who stood at her side, grinning and bobbing and
hugging his shoulders in the ecstasy of being in the presence of his
idol.
"Oh, very well." Nicholas gave in without a struggle.
"Let the little devil come along."
Tamre lolloped away up the path ahead of them, his grubby shamma
flapping around his long skinny legs, chanting the repetitive chorus of
an Amharic psalm, and every few minutes looking back to make certain
that Royan was still following him. It was a hard pull up the valley,
and the noonday heat was debilitating. Although Tamre seemed totally
unaffected, the other two were both sweating in dark patches through
their shirts by the time they reached the point where the stream
debauched into the valley. Gratefully, they sought the shade of a patch
of acacia trees, and while they rested Nicholas glassed the side of the
valley through his binoculars.
"How are they after the dunking I gave them?" she asked.
"Waterproof," he grunted, "full marks to Herr Zeiss."
"What do you see up there?"
"Not much. The bush is too thick. We will have to foot'slog up the side.
Sorry."
They left the shade and made their way up the side of the valley in the
direct burning sunlight. The stream tumbled down a series of cascades,
each with a pool at its foot. The bush crowded the banks, lush and green
where the roots had been able to reach the water. Clouds of black and
yellow butterflies danced over the Pools, and a black and white wagtail
patrolled the moss-green rocks along the edge, its long tail gyrating
back and forth like the needle of a metronome.
Halfway up the slope they paused beside one of the pools to rest, and
Nicholas used his hat like a fly-swatter to stun a brown and yellow
grasshopper. He tossed the insect on to the surface of the pool, and as
it kicked weakly and floated towards the exit a long dark shadow rose
from the bottom. There was a swirl and a mirrorlike flash of a scaly
silver belly, and the grasshopper disappeared.
"Ten'pounder,'Nicholas lamented. "Why didn't I bring my rod?"
Tamre was crouched near Nicholas on the pool bank, and suddenly he
lifted his hand and held it out. Almost at once one of the circling
butterflies settled upon his finger.
It perched there with its velvety black and yellow wings fanning gently.
They stared at him in astonishment, for it was as though the insect had
come to his bidding. Tamre giggled and offered the butterfly to Royan.
When she held out her hand, he gently transferred the gorgeous insect to
her palm.
"Thank you, Tamre. That is a wonderful gift. Now my gift to you is to
set it free again." She pursed her lips and blew it softly into flight.
They watched the butterfly climb high above the pool, and Tamre clapped
his hands and laughed with delight.
"Strange," Nicholas murmured. "He seems to have a special empathy with
all the creatures of the wilderness. I think that Jali Hora, the abbot,
does not try to control him, but lets him do very much as his simple
fancy dictates.
Special treatment for a fey soul, one that hears a different tune and
dances to it. I must admit that, despite myself, I am becoming quite
fond of the lad."
It was only another fifty feet higher that they came to the source.