tattered curtain of canvas, and lit by a pair of Petromax lamps.
The German doctor was removing a shattered limb, cutting below the knee
while the young Harari warrior thrashed weakly under the weight of the
four orderlies who held him down.
Vicky waited until they carried the patient away and she called to
Sara. The two of them went out and stood breathing the sweet mountain
air with relief as they leant close together under the overhanging roof
of the veranda while Vicky repeated the conversation she had held
with
Lij Mikhael.
"Then we were cut off. The line just went dead."
"Yes," Sara nodded. "They have cut the wires. It is only a surprise
that Ras
Kullah did not do so before. The wires cross over the top of Ambo
Sacal. Perhaps it has taken this long for them to reach it."
"Will you go down the gorge, Sara, and give the message to Major
Swales? I would go down in Miss Wobbly, but there is almost no fuel in
the tank, and I
have promised Jake not to waste it. We will need every drop later--2
"It will be quicker on horseback anyway," Sara smiled, and I will be
able to see Gregorius."
"No, it won't take long," Vicky agreed.
"They are very close." Both of them paused to listen to the Italian
guns. The thumping detonations of the high explosive reverberated
against the mountains, close enough to make the ground tremble under
their feet.
"Don't you want me to give a message to Mr. Bartonr Sara demanded
archly. "Shall I tell him that your body crave, "No," Vicky cut her
short, her alarm obvious. "For goodness sake don't go giving him one
of your salacious inventions."
"What does "salacious" mean, Miss
Camberwell?" Sara's interest was aroused immediately.
"It means lecherous, lustful."
"Salacious," Sara repeated,
memorizing it. "It's a fine word," and with gusto she tried it out.
"My body craves you with a great salacious yearning."
"Sara, if you tell Jake that I said that, I will murder you with my
bare hands,"
Vicky warned her, laughing for the first time in many days, and her
laughter was cut off in mid flight by the single ringing scream of
terror, and the wild animal roar that followed it.
Suddenly the goods yard was filled with racing figures; they poured out
of the thick stand of cedar trees that flanked the railway line, and
they crossed the tracks in a few leaping bounds. There were hundreds
of them and they poured into the warehouse and fell like a pack of
wolves on the rows of helpless wounded.
"The Gallas," whispered Sara huskily, and for a moment they stood
paralysed with horror, staring into the gloomy cavern of the shed.
Vicky saw the old German doctor run to meet the Galla wave, with his
arms spread in a gesture of appeal, trying to prevent the slaughter. He
took the thrust of a broadsword full in the centre of his chest, and a
foot of the blade appeared magically from between his
shoulder-blades.
She saw a Galla, armed with a magazine-loaded rifle, run down a line of
wounded, pausing to fire a single shot at pointblank range into each
head.
She saw another with a long dagger in his hand, not bothering even to
slit the throat of the Harari wounded, before he jerked aside the
covering of coarse jute bags and his dagger swept in a single cutting
stroke across the exposed lower belly.
She saw the shed filled with frenzied figures, their sword-arms rising
and falling, their gunfire crashing into the supine bodies, and the
screams of their victims ringing against the high roof, blending with
the high excited laughter and the wild cries of the Galla.
Sara dragged Vicky away, pulling her back behind the sheltering wall of
the shed. It broke the spell of horror which had mesmerized
Vicky and she ran beside the girl on flying feet.
The car," she panted. "If we can reach the car." Miss Wobbly was
parked beyond the station buildings under the lean-to of the loco shed
where it was protected from the rain. Running side by side, Vicky
and
Sara turned the corner of the shed and ran almost into the arms of a
dozen Gallas coming at a run in the opposite direction.
Vicky had a glimpse of their dark faces, shining with rain and sweat,
of the open mouths and flashing wolf-like teeth, the mad staring eyes,
and she smelt them, the hot excited animal smell of their sweat.
Then she was twisting away, like a hare jinking out of the track of a
hound. A hand clutched at her shoulder, and she felt her blouse tear,
then she was free and running, but she could hear the pounding of their
feet close behind her, and the crazy loolooing of excitement as they
chased.
Sara ran with her, drawing slightly ahead as they reached the corner of
the station building. There was the flash and the crack of a
rifle-shot out on their left, and the bullet slammed into the wall
beside them. From the corner of her eye Vicky saw other running
Gallas,
racing in from the main road of the village, their long shammas
flapping about them as they ran to head them off.
Sara was drawing away from her. The girl ran with the grace and speed
of a gazelle, and Vicky could not keep pace with her. She rounded the
