CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

The boat in which they were going to travel down river was long and narrow. The engine was in the middle of it and was covered by a long flat roof supported by poles making the craft resemble an old-fashioned pleasure boat more suitable for a pleasant Sunday afternoon outing than for a voyage along an important waterway.

The luggage was stored with boxes of medical supplies under the roof where there were also two long benches for passengers to sit on. Since Luiz and Edmund seem to have taken over the benches and were engaged in what seemed to be a very earnest conversation about anthropology Delia and Rita climbed on to the top of the roof to sit under the burning sun, while Manoel, Jekaro and Mejai, who were both from Binauros, took turns at steering the boat and looking out for submerged sandbanks.

The river was wide and at first the water was a clear brown, but they hadn't gone far along it when it was joined by another river and the colour changed to a murky greyish- green.

'Why has it changed colour?' Delia asked Rita. Seated cross-legged wearing her floppy-brimmed white linen hat. she had her notebook at the ready and her camera near at hand.

'There are two kinds of river in the jungle,' Rita explained. Wearing only a very brief bikini which showed off her shapely golden-skinned figure, she did not seem in the least bothered by the heat of the sun. 'One we call "black" and the other "white". The white ones like the one we're following now contain more disease and insect life than the black. You're more likely to get malaria by being bitten by a mosquito on this river, so I hope you've taken your pills today.'

In the fuss with Edmund Delia had forgotten to take the malaria pills, so she searched her handbag for the phial containing them, but was unable to swallow them because there didn't seem to be anything to drink.

'Jekaro will be making coffee soon on the little spirit stove,' said Rita. 'You'll be able to take them then. Oh, isn't it lovely and peaceful gliding along in this way !'

It was. The engine made a reluctant put-put sound and the boat seemed to drift with the fast-flowing water rather than be pushed along. Thick trees, a thousand shades of green, fringed the banks of the river, rimming it with a reflection of green. Sometimes the banks became cliffs of red earth and the reflection changed to a dark crimson colour.

Where the river widened it was often split by smooth sandbanks gleaming golden in the sunlight over which swarms of tiger-striped butterflies fluttered in perpetual dance. Crocodiles lay on the banks basking in the sun, slipping into the water to hide when they heard the approach of the boat. Kingfishers were flashes of sapphire against the green of the trees and large white herons with curved necks and long thin legs flapped wide wings across the reflection of-cloudless blue sky.

The sun blistered down and Delia was glad of her long-sleeved shirt and long pants even though she felt hot. She was glad too she had brought plenty of protective skin lotion to smear on her face and hands.

Time passed peacefully and effortlessly. With so much natural beauty to watch and nothing to do it was easy to relax. Once, feeling the need to escape from the sun's rays, Delia scrambled off the roof into the engine room, but found it was even hotter there and that the fumes from the engine were sick-making. Both Luiz and Edmund were stretched out on the benches and both seemed to be dozing. Going back to perch on the roof again, she stared at the bright water and wondered if it would be possible to swim.

At that moment, as if in answer to her thought, the engine of the boat coughed wheezily and stopped. Manoel went to attend to it, to take out plugs and clean them and to empty the carburetor. The boat drifted sideways on the swirling current and the sun seemed hotter than ever.

'Couldn't we swim?' said Delia hopefully to Edmund, who had come up from the engine room to sit on the roof.

'Not here,' said Luiz, who had also appeared. 'The water is thick with piranha.'

'They only bite if they smell blood,' argued Edmund. 'In Fenenal we often swam in piranha-infested rivers?'

'But you are not going to swim here, my friend, while you are under my supervision,' said Luiz. 'Nor is Delia.'

'Oh, it's all right,' said Delia quickly. Even though she was longing to be in the water the mention of the dreaded roan-eating fish had put her off completely. 'Is there any other way I could cool off?'

''If you would like to put on your bikini we could-scoop up water from the river and pour it over each other,' suggested Rita.

'What a good idea!' exclaimed Delia, and within seconds had her shirt and pants off to show she had had the forethought to wear her bikini under them.

Laughing and joking, they scooped up water in the tin cans Jekaro had found and poured it over each other and sat dangling their feet in the smoothly swirling water. It was a

good alternative to swimming and feeling much cooler Delia was able to enjoy the simple meal of tinned sardines, sweet wholemeal biscuits and the inevitable sweet black coffee which Mejai was able to produce.

The engine spluttered into life again and the boat chugged on through the blinding, brilliance of the afternoon. Delia smothered her skin with protective lotion and risked sunburn, hoping she might acquire a deep coppery tan like Rita's.

She had been lying out on the roof for only a short while when she felt a movement beside her and looking round and up saw that Edmund had come to sit beside her and dangle his legs over the edge.

'Put your shirt and trousers on,' he said, pitching his voice low so that none of the others could hear what he was saying. 'You're going to look like an over-ripe tomato if you don't,' he added, dropping her creased cotton clothing on her knee. 'You're also going to get sunstroke. Have you no sense? Do I have to tell you what to do all the time as if you were a child?'

Under the shadow of the brim of his old straw hat his blue eyes were hard and critical as their glance roved over her, aad once again she felt the effect of his hostility. It was like being punched, she thought, her spirits which had been lifted somewhat by the pleasant relaxed journey plunging down to an all-time low.

'No, you don't,' she retorted in a shaky whisper as she thrust her legs into the pants and wriggled around to pull them up over her hips. 'You don't have to do anything for me. I can look after myself. I'm well aware that you don't like taking responsibility, at last not that sort of responsibility. That's why you didn't want to get married, isn't it? You were afraid of committing yourself, afraid you might have to consider another person before yourself.'

'Well, well, so you've got the message at last,' he jeered. 'A pity you didn't get it before you decided to choose me as your marriage partner. You made a bad choice, Delia. I'm not the tame house-dog type, but once I was married to you I did try to consider you ...'

'By going off for months by yourself to some remote place and not keeping in touch,' she muttered as she struggled into her shirt.

'To do a job which I'm trained to do. Te help people in distress who were hurt and diseased,' he said harshly. 'I'd thought, I'd hoped you of all people would have understood. After all, your own father was the same, always going away . . .'

'But he always took my mother with him,' she argued. 'Even after she'd had me she went with him whenever she could.' .

'And died of an obscure fever which she picked up in the Congo jungle,' he put in, and she turned sharply to look at him.

'Who told your' she asked, knowing that she hadn't. 'Marsha, the day we met at her house, before you ever appeared. She was going on about the jungle being an unsuitable place for a woman. She seemed to think it was your father's fault that your mother died,' he said slowly.

'Oh, I know. She hated him. She used to say he'd sacrificed my mother to his crazy idealism,' Delia moaned.

'So she said that day, and knowing myself I was determined that no one would ever accuse me of doing the same,' he told her.

Delia stared at the river. The flat water was changing colour as it reflected the fiery reds, glowing oranges and flamingo pinks of a sunset such as she had never seen before.

The whole sky looked as if it were on fire.

'At least my father loved my mother enough to. let her choose whether she would go with him or not. You didn't give me that sort of choice,' she replied.

He was sitting so close to her that she felt him stiffen in reaction to her remark.

'Are you implying that I don't love you and have never loved you? 'he challenged roughly.

'Yes,' she whispered, and waited hopefully for him to deny the implication.

'Then why are you still married to me?' he demanded, and she guessed that only the presence of other people made him keep his voice low. 'If you believe that why didn't you divorce me? Why the hell are you here, butting into my life again?' His voice shook with the intensity of his feelings. 'God, how I wish you hadn't come !'

It was like receiving a whip-lash across the face and Delia was unable to prevent a cry from escaping her. Fortunately at that moment Mejai, who was in the bow of the boat keeping a look-out, shouted at the same time and everyone looked towards him and not towards her. He was pointing to the bank where a narrow rim of sand curved round a small bay. Jekaro, who was steering, altered the course of the boat until it was pointing towards the crescent of sand.

'I came because Ben sent me,' said Delia stiffly, turning to look at Edmund, glad of her sunglasses because they concealed the tears which had gathered in her eyes.

'And I can't help it if you find my presence here a nuisance. But it won't be for long, and please don't feel you have to be responsible for me. I'll manage very well without your help. I've been managing for some time now.'

She shifted forward and jumped down into the bow of the boat to go and stand beside Mejai. The rich colour of sunset was fading rapidly from the sky and stars were pricking the silvery greyness which took its place. Above the dark trees to the east a huge round yellow moon showed its upper curve. As Jekaro steered the boat into the bank it became obvious that the bay was bigger than it first appeared from a distance as it was screened from view by an island. 'In the shelter of the island the water was flat and faintly luminous. Jekaro took the boat as near to the beach as he could and Mejai leapt ashore with a rope in his hand to tie it round a convenient tree so that the boat wouldn't drift away. ..

They all went ashore in the roughly made Indian canoe which had been towed behind the boat, three of them at a time, taking with them the articles which they would need for the night. Jekaro and Mejai hacked a way through thick undergrowth with sharp, broad-bladed machetes to a small clearing where a dozen small trees made a circle in the centre of which lay a large log, convenient for sitting on.

While the Indians cut wood and made two fires, Luiz, Manoel and Edmund hung the hammocks which had been brought, slinging them between the trees. When the fires were lit Jekaro went back to die boat to fish, Rita told Delia. Interested to see how he would do it, Delia followed him and watched him stand in the stern of the boat to attach a grain of cooked rice to the hook on the end of his line and throw it out into the silvery grey water.

Suddenly the line jerked. The boat rocked as Jekaro balanced himself on the balls of his feet and began to haul the line in. There was a fish on the end of the hook. It was about eight inches long and very plump, and as it leapt about trying to free itself it showed a row of wicked-looking sharp teeth.

'What is it?' Delia asked Edmund, who had come to watch Jekaro too.

'A piranha. How would you like to feel those teeth sinking into your leg? They make very good eating, though, even if they are a little bony.'

He stepped into the canoe, pushed off and let it sidle . across the narrow strip of water to the boat, then went aboard and soon appeared beside Jekaro with a fishing line in his hand.

'Perhaps you would like to get some water for cooking in the pans,' said Rita to Delia. 'The way those two are pulling the fish in it looks as if we're going to have a good supper.'

As she dipped a pan into the water Delia noticed for the first time dark log-shapes floating silently in the water, making for the bank. Suddenly one of the shapes zoomed towards her, swept by and out into the bay again. Realising it was a crocodile, she dropped the pan in horror. She groped in the water for the pan, found it and dipped it in again. The shape zoomed in again and she retreated hastily up the bank just as Jekaro and Edmund returned in the canoe with their catch of fish. They rushed past her into the clearing, leaving the fish there, and came running back to the canoe. Edmund was carrying the shotgun.

'What are you going to do?' exclaimed Delia, as he ran past her.

'Try to shoot that crocodile who fancied a taste of you,' he replied. 'Come and watch.'

Not sure that she wanted to be in the front seat at a killing but realising she must observe all she could if she was to make a success of the articles for the magazine, Delia put her pan of water down and ran after Edmund, leaping into the canoe just as Jekaro pushed off again.

'Here, make yourself useful and shine the torch on the water,' ordered Edmund, thrusting the torch into her hand.

The powerful beam of the flashlight shimmered on the dark water as the canoe slipped forward slowly. Turning it gradually so that light swept over a wide area, Delia felt Edmund's excitement communicating itself to her, the primitive excitement of the hunt for food, and for "the first time she realised how important the hunting of wild animals was to people who lived in the wilderness.

A dark log shape showed up in the beam of light. She saw a reptilian head and two red eyes.

'There he is,' whispered Edmund. 'Keep the light steady on him. His tail will make good eating.'

She heard the click as he released the safety catch on the gun and then the explosion of the shot was in her ears.

'Got him right between the eyes!' Edmund was exultant. But the crocodile was beginning to sink and he had to turn and help paddle the canoe with Jekaro while Delia knelt in the bow still keeping the beam of the torch on the animal.

They reached it just in time. Edmund and Jekaro grabbed the tail and hauled it into the boat. Tail thrashing and wicked-looking teeth snapping, it lay in the bottom while Jekaro, who was grinning with delight, paddled the canoe

expertly towards the shore.

There was quite a reception party for the return of the crocodile-hunters. Everyone seemed to be pleased with the catch and congratulated Edmund on his marksmanship. Mejai soon had the tail of the animal cut off and skinned ready for cooking when the supper was ready.

Food for supper was already cooking over the two fires. Rice, onions and tomatoes with a few inches of dried rubbery meat were bubbling in one iron pot and on an improvised barbecue made from green sticks balanced on forked twigs stuck into the ground Mejai was tending the fish which had been caught as they smoked and gave off a delicious smell.

After the excitement of being part of the hunt Delia felt a little shaky and sat down on the log. At once Edmund shouted at her.

'Don't sit there ! It's crawling with ants.' She got up hastily and shone the torch she was still carrying on to the log. It was crawling with huge black ants.

'They sting,' said Edmund, coming across to her with a spray can of insecticide. 'If you must sit down spray it first. And keep your feet moving all the time. It keeps them away to a certain extent.'

Although still feeling a little huffy after the way he had told her he wished she hadn't come, Delia did as he told her. There was so much for her to learn about living like this. But she could learn as her mother had, and now she was here she was going to show Edmund she could survive in the jungle as well as he could. As far as she could see it was the only way she could prove to him that she loved him and wanted to be with him.

They ate supper quickly, the rice and vegetables with rough spoons and the fish with their fingers. Everyone was sleepy afterwards. Luiz got into his hammock fully dressed and seemed to go to sleep immediately. Manoel and Rita walked off to the edge of the river together, their arms en twined about each other, presumably wishing to be alone for a while before going to bed.

Watching them go, Delia felt envy stab her and looked around for Edmund. He wasn't in the clearing. Presumably he wanted to be alone by himself, she thought with a rueful quirk to her mouth. He had managed so long without her company that it wasn't necessary to him now.

There was nothing else to do except get into her hammock, but she felt she couldn't go to bed until she had washed the smell of fish from her hands and the sweat of the day from her body. So she rummaged about until she found her toilet bag and a towel and then walked away from the clearing to the river, going in the opposite direction to that taken by Rita and Manoel.

Shuffling her feet to scare off any. snakes, pulling aside creepers which got in her way, she could hear the sinister night sounds of the jungle around her. Bird's squawked harshly, an army of insects kept up a persistent hum, crickets chirped and frogs croaked. And there were other sounds too, as if a thousand small animal feet were pattering about.

At last she saw the gleam of moonlight on water. Her fear of the noises was forgotten as she gasped with pleasure at the beauty of the scene before her. Still yellow, the moon laid a path of gold on the placid water and gilded the outlines of huge leaves and glinted on the scimitar curve of a small sandy beach.

Delighted by her find, Delia stepped on to the beach and stripped off her shirt and trousers. She was still wearing her bikini and after a moment's hesitation she stripped that off too, giving in to a longing to immerse herself completely in the cool refreshing water while there was no one there to see her. She would keep her canvas boots on and wouldn't stay in too long.

Carrying her face-cloth and soap in one hand, she stepped into the water. After the heat of the day it felt tepid but wonderfully refreshing. She dipped her face-cloth in and after soaping it began to wash her body. When she was thoroughly soaped all over she stepped further into the water, wading along the shimmering path of moonlight, luxuriating in the feeling of being completely natural. Sinking down until only her head was above the surface, she lei the water rinse the soap from her skin, then leapt up, hand; above her head as if taking part in some ritual which paid homage to the moon. Twice more she dipped into the water and twice more she jumped up, feeling wonderfully exhilarated.

For a few moments she stood still, face lifted to the moon, her slight breasts taut as if she were offering herself as a living sacrifice, aware of new primitive appetites awakening within her yet feeling a little sad because there was no one with her to share in the beauty of the scene around her.

It was then she felt a nibbling sensation up and down her legs, and looking down, she could see in the clear moonlit water hundreds of tiny fishes, some of which were clinging to her skin like leeches. Waving her legs in a wild can-can dance to get rid of the fish, she made for the shore. Her foot slipped on something unseen and slimy and she fell with a splash.

Floundering about, she managed to- find her footing again, only to see a long shape, dark and sinister in the moonlight, zooming in towards her.

At once she shrieked, leapt for the shore, slipped again and fell, going right under this time. Coming up, her hair dripping over her face, she went more slowly and felt her heart bump against her ribs when she saw another dark shape standing on the moonlit shore. Someone was watching her.

'Who's there?' she called, and then, immediately tried to remember the Portuguese for the question. Neither Jekaro nor Mejai understood English and it could be either of them, come to see what she was doing and possibly to warn her of danger.

'Me. What do you think you're doing?' Edmund sounded wearily exasperated, but the sound of his voice brought relief and she was very glad it was he who was watching her bathe in the nude and not anyone else.

'I was bathing myself and I slipped on something underfoot,' she explained, wading cautiously towards him. Out of the corners of her eyes she saw another log shape come, zooming in again and panicked. 'Oh, one of them is after me again !' she cried.

'Here, take my hand,' said Edmund, reaching out. His fingers closed round hers tightly and within seconds she was standing beside him with water dripping off her on to the sand.

'You little fool,' he whispered, still holding her hand. 'Why did you have to strip and go into the river?'

'I felt sticky and dirty. I didn't intend to stay in for long. It was all right until I found the little fish clinging to me.'

'What fish? Where?' he demanded urgently. 'Are you sure they were fish and not leeches?'

'On my legs. Oh no, not leeches, please don't let them be leeches,' she gasped, shaking suddenly from head to foot with something that had nothing to do with fear as she felt the familiar touch of his hands when he smoothed her legs up from the ankles.

'They're all off, now,' he said gruffly, standing up straight. 'I saw you fall in.'

'You saw?' she queried. 'How long have you been here?' 'Long enough to see you bowing to the moon,' he scoffed. 'I saw you leave the clearing and when you were a long time coming back I thought I'd better find out what had happened to you. You should know you shouldn't wander off by yourself in a place like this. And why couldn't you go to bed. without bathing for once? Do you have to have all modern cons, wherever you go?' he added roughly.

'No, I don't,' she mumbled miserably. It seemed that her attempt to prove to him that she could live in the jungle as well as he could was doomed from the start. 'I'm sorry,' she quavered humbly.

'Oh, Edmund . . .' She turned blindly, impulsively towards him, forgetful she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, longing to feel the lean hard strength of his body against hers, wanting him with a sudden fierce urgency which made her reckless of what he might think.

He stepped back from her, clicked on the torch he was carrying and shone its beam over the sand until it lit up her heap of clothing. He bent and picked up her shirt.

'Here, put this on,' he ordered curtly, and before she could

take it from him he pulled it over her head so roughly that he knocked her off balance. Afraid that she might fall, she clutched at the front of his shirt hearing buttons pop off under the strain.

He dropped the torch and put his hands to her waist to steady her. At once her whole body responded to that familiar and welcome touch and arched against his.

Slowly his hands lost their hardness. His fingers spread out, moving subtly and suggestively, their sensitive tips savoring the smooth dampness of her skin. Up and up they slid under the carelessly draped fold of the shirt. One hand curved about one taut, uplifted breast, the other slid round to the small of her back to press her body more closely against his.

Eagerly her hands fanned out against his chest, exulting in the feel of warm taut skin over hard muscles. Her hands moved up to curve about his throat and round to his nape under the thick curling hair. She lifted her face, her lips

parted, her eyes closed.

'This is madness,' he whispered, and her breath came out in a little moan as his open mouth, the lips hard with desire, covered hers.

It was a strange wild coming together; an embrace born of the primitive surroundings; induced by the caress of warm still air on the skin, by the light of the yellow moon, by the deep purple murmuring shadows of the trees.

It ended abruptly. Edmund wrenched himself from her with a muttered expletive and Delia could hear him breathing heavily and shakily. She staggered a little, stepped on something slimy again and slipped, yelped with terror and moved back to him for protection. This time his hands supported her only for a few seconds while she regained her balance, then he snatched them away from her.

'For God's sake,' he rasped between his teeth, 'put that shirt on properly and get your pants on.' He groped on the ground for the torch he had dropped, found it and switched it on again. 'You couldn't have chosen a worse place to turn on. We're both being bitten to death by mosquitoes and there are snakes underfoot.'

Delia realised suddenly that her damp skin had all sorts of insects clinging to it. With shaking hands she brushed them from her and pushed her arms into the sleeves of her shirt. Picking up her pants, she shook them to get rid of ants and pulled them on.

'I wasn't the only one to turn on,' she muttered, pushing her wet hair back from her face'. 'You did too,' she accused.

'All right, I admit I did,' he growled in a savage undertone. 'But I'd defy any man with blood in his veins to keep his hands to himself when someone like you, naked in the moonlight, throws herself at him.'

'I didn't throw myself at you,' she protested. 'I ... I ... just wanted to ... to ... Oh, why are you so unkind and cruel to me?' she cried out.

'In self defense,' he replied with a curious little laugh. 'I use what weapons I have. Don't make the mistake of believing that what happened just now meant anything. I've no doubt that when you've recovered from your bout of moon-madness you'll be glad I was able to keep control and didn't insist on the usual culmination.'

The taunt was like having the point of a knife touch a sensitive spot in a festering wound. She winced in agony.

'Why? Why do you have to defend yourself against me?' she whispered. 'Oh, Edmund, why can't we be as we used to be when we were first married? We were so happy.'

'Don't you mean you were happy while everything was easy and pleasant?' he remarked dryly. He rubbed at his bare chest with one hand as if it eased a bite which had begun to itch. 'We can't be as we used to be because we've hurt each other too much, I suppose, and it takes time to forgive and forget. Could be neither of us will be able to,' he added somberly, then slapped viciously at an. insect which was biting him and swore. 'This is hardly the place to discuss our relationship,' he went on. 'Let's get back to the clearing and go to bed like everyone else. It'll be another early start in the morning, so you'll need all the sleep you can get. Come on, I'll lead the way with the torch. And go quietly, everyone is asleep.'

Realising that what he said was true and that she was itching already from many bites, Delia groped around for her bikini and toilet bag. They would be covered with ants and other insects and she had lost her face-cloth and soap forever, but she couldn't throw them away because they were the only ones she had brought with her.

Reaction to what had happened was beginning to set in and it took all her resources of pride to hold back the. tears as she stumbled along after Edmund. In the clearing the two fires were crackling merrily, kept alight presumably to keep prowling jungle animals away, and by the orange glow she could see the shapes of the hammocks slung between the trees. All of them were occupied except two on the far side.

'The idea is to get into the hammock and under the mosquito net without an army of mosquitoes getting in with you,' Edmund explained in a cool impersonal whisper. 'I'll spray you with fly spray first to kill any bugs which might be clinging to you.'

'Can't I change into my nightdress?' she asked.

'Do you have it with you?'

'Yes, it's in the hammock under the mosquito net.'

'Okay, you change. You'll probably sleep better if you're out of those clothes. I'll be back in a few minutes to help you get in.'

He went off to the other hammock and standing behind her hammock so that Mejai, who had swung out of his bed to attend to the fires, wouldn't see her she took off her shirt and pants and slipped into the cool cotton nightie. Edmund came back and taking her discarded clothing tied it in a bundle with a piece of string he took from his pants pocket and hung it from the cords which held the hammock to the tree trunk.

'Keep your boots on until you're in and then hand them to me and I'll hang them up in the same way. Never leave any clothing on the ground or it'll be invaded by bugs,' he whispered to her. 'Now, are you ready?'

Delia nodded, and felt his hands warm through the thin stuff of the nightgown as he helped her climb into the ham-mock, which swayed violently as she burrowed under the netting.

'Lie across it, Brazilian fashion,' he suggested. 'It won't swing so much then. Have you a blanket?'

'Yes, thank you.'

'You'll need it. Sleeping out at night tends to be a chilly and damp business. Goodnight.'

'Goodnight, and thank you,' she replied in a small choked voice as the tears which she had held back gushed suddenly into her eyes.

It wasn't easy to arrange the soft blanket, but after a lot of wriggling she managed-to make herself comfortable. Swaying gently, she looked at the glow of the fires, at the other hammocks and then up at the stars winking beyond the dark tracery of branches, through the haze of white cotton which covered her.

How was she going to sleep while her emotions were seesawing so wildly? Out there in the moonlight by the river Edmund had rejected her just as surely as she had rejected him sixteen months ago. We have both been hurt too much by each other, he had said, and she realised now that she had hurt him when she had left the flat that evening.

But he could have stopped her from leaving. Why hadn't he? And if only he hadn't gone to see Peter or listened to him. Having been the victim of Peter's suave persuasive charm herself she could understand how easy it must have been for Edmund, humiliated by her apparent rejection of him, to believe everything the smooth-tongued lawyer, his friend for years, had said about her, his young untested wife.

For a while she had found it easy to believe Peter too, when he had told her that she would be better off if she divorced Edmund and that Edmund had come to him and had asked him to make arrangement for a divorce. He had almost persuaded her to agree by using the argument that it was what Edmund wanted when he had made the most surprising mistake.

'When all this is over you'll be free of him and will be able to marry me,' he had said one evening when he had called in to see her.

'But I don't want to marry you,' she had exclaimed. 'I don't want to be married to anyone but Edmund. I ... I love him and I'll give him his freedom, but that doesn't mean I'll marry vou.'

For a few seconds he had looked taken aback. Then he had recovered his polished poise and had come to sit down beside her and had taken her hand in his.

'It's only natural for you to feel like that now,' he had said soothingly. 'After all, it isn't long since Edmund left you. And divorce is always a traumatic experience for a woman, even after such a short marriage as yours has been. I know you're being wrenched apart inside while you're trying to make up your mind, but believe me, you'll feel better once you've made the decision.' He had sighed and added in his worldly-wise way, 'I've seen it happen so many times in my line of business. Edmund has made his decision and there's not a chance in hell of him coming back for a reconciliation. Now it's up to you.'

'Do you have any idea where he is?' Delia had asked hopefully, thinking that personal contact with Edmund might have a happy result.

'Yes, I do, but he asked me not to tell you and I can't betray his confidence even to you,' Peter had replied smoothly. 'I believe he's going on another expedition and could be away for over a year.' He had turned to her earnestly. 'Can't you see, Delia, he's always going to be like that. He's always going to leave you.'

Maybe Aunt Marsha had been right after all, she had thought dully. Edmund was the love-you-and-leave-you type.

'If only I could be sure,' she had muttered. 'Sure that divorce is what he really wants. If only I could talk to him, or even write to him.'

'I'm sure,' said Peter confidently. 'Remember I'm his friend as well as his lawyer. He told me he should never have married you and he wants to rectify the mistake as quickly and as painlessly as possible. He could never bear to see anyone suffer, you know, and he believes you are suffering. Take my advice. Make the decision for your own sake, for your own peace of mind.'

But she hadn't made it because she had begun to be aware of changes in her body. She had counted up weeks and found that three months had passed by since Edmund had been home between his two periods of absence first in Indonesia and then in Central America and that there was a possibility she was pregnant. A visit to a doctor had confirmed her suspicion that she was carrying Edmund's child and the idea of divorce had gone right out of her head.

The hammock swung crazily as Delia wriggled around in it trying to burrow more snugly into the blanket, wishing she had the sleeping pills Edmund had taken from her. What would he have said if she had told him that the illness from which she had suffered had been a nervous breakdown after she had lost the child and that the pills had been prescribed for moments like this when she couldn't bear to think about what had happened?

But now, in this tented airborne bed, in the fire lit clearing in the jungle she was having to think about it, face up to it, and suddenly she was wishing that she was back in the hot shuttered room in Posto Orlando. There, with Edmund lying on the other bed, she could have whispered to him in the darkness and shared with him at last the experience of those first months after he had left her. Talking to him would have relieved the ache of regret and eased a little the deep sense of loss and disappointment because the baby boy had been born prematurely and had died soon after birth.

For she had been glad when she had discovered she was carrying Edmund's child and she had tried' hard to find out where he had gone so that she could tell him. Distrusting Peter, she hadn't told him, although she had asked him again if he would tell her where Edmund was. He had been very bland, had shrugged his shoulders and had said, 'Your guess is as good as mine.' And after that she had gone out of her way to avoid meeting him.

She had gone to the Red Cross headquarters thinking Edmund might be doing voluntary work for them. They had no idea where he was. She had gone to the research institute where he had once worked and they had given her an address which she hadn't known about before, the address of his great-uncle. So she had written to Edmund care of it. A week or so later her letter had been returned with a covering letter from Justin Talbot, who said he was surprised to learn that his great-nephew Edmund was married but that he had no idea of Edmund's whereabouts.

Delia fell asleep suddenly, overwhelmed by emotional exhaustion. She awoke to find everyone else was up and moving about in the pearly misty light of dawn. Casting off the mosquito net, she reached for the bundle of clothes and taking them under the netting with her began to dress, the hammock swaying wildly as she wriggled.

There was nothing much left for breakfast, only a cup of tepid coffee and some cold fish and rice. Although her stomach turned over at the sight of the food she ate it, realising she would be very hungry later if she didn't. Then following the example of the others she carried all the articles she had taken ashore back to the boat and soon it was chugging peacefully downstream.

Delia sat in the bows with Luiz, her notebook on her knee, occasionally making notes while he told her about his work with the tribes and of his struggle to give them the confidence to deal with the modern world which was slowly but inexorably encroaching on their way of life.

'I provide them with implements which will be of use to them—steel axes and knives instead of stone ones, guns for hunting, fishing tackle. Food and clothing only when they ask for them,' he said. 'Too often in the past these people have been demoralized and denigrated by the white people who have forced their ways, their religion and culture on a people who have their own religions and their own culture. Now I encourage them to keep their tribal customs, the dances and the rituals, the arts and crafts.'

His sincerity showed in every word, every gesture, and she could not help hut admire him. They talked all morning. He mentioned her father and how much he had helped the tribes by publicizing them through his articles and lectures. And he talked of Edmund.

'I would like to think he'll come back here and work for us,' he said. 'Has he spoken to you about it yet?'

'No, not yet,' she said.

'It will not be an easy decision for him to make, I realise that now that I have met you.' His dark eyes twinkled roguishly. 'When a man is a bachelor like myself he does not have such problems to deal with. I hope you and he will come to some compromise as Manoel and Rita have done. They tell me that is what marriage is all about—loving each other enough to reach a compromise.'

As on the previous day the heat and glare on the water became almost unbearable and Delia was glad to take shelter in the engine house in spite of the fumes. Curling up against the pieces of baggage, she alternately dozed and wrote busily. For a while Rita joined her to talk, but Edmund kept aloof from her, staying, outside on the roof and sometimes helping to steer the boat.

Half way through the afternoon they were caught in a shower of heavy rain which swished through the jungle and across the river like a thick grey curtain, blotting out the views and soaking everything which was in its way. The rain had barely stopped when the boat turned a wide bend in the river and pointed towards a cluster of wooden huts scattered about an emerald green bank in a jungle clearing. It was so unusual among the seemingly never-ending dark forest that seeing it was like coming across a tiny unflawed diamond among a clutter of semi-precious stones. It was Binauros.

Contrarily the strong current which had carried them down river now seemed determined to sweep them past the village. Jekaro and Mejai needed the help of Edmund and Manoel to fight the current with long poles and turn the boat towards the bank. At last they were near enough for Mejai to throw the rope ashore. It was caught by a tall Indian who was standing on the bank and who pulled the boat alongside a small wooden jetty.

A group of Indians, most of them dressed in shorts and shirts, stood on the bank, strangely silent. Suddenly the air was split by a high-pitched wailing noise and a woman appeared. She was wearing a shapeless cotton dress and was screaming and beating her breast while tears flowed down her cheeks from glassy staring eyes.

Jekaro moved forward and jumped ashore. At once the woman stopped crying, grasped him by the arm. Grinning with embarrassment, Jekaro allowed her to drag him up the slope towards the huts. And then the group of silent Indians began to shout and laugh. They rushed on to the boat to greet Luiz, touching him with reverence, shaking his hands and putting their arms about him before turning to do the same to Manoel.

'What was all that about?' Delia asked Rita.

'The woman is the mother of Jekaro. She was crying for all the days he has been away from this village. Everyone . had tq remain silent until she had performed the ritual of welcoming him. Shall we go ashore? The welcoming party will carrv our luggage to the huts.'

Delia was glad to step off the boat, but instead of being firm the ground seemed to heave under her feet as if she was still on the boat. She staggered a little out of control and might have fallen if her arm hadn't been grasped. A man spoke to her laughingly in Portuguese and she looked up to find she was being supported by a slim handsome Brazilian of about thirty years of age who was dressed in a crisp white shirt and white trousers.

His dark brown eyes gleamed with admiration as he smiled down at her, but she couldn't understand a word he was saying. By concentrating hard she managed to remember enough Portuguese to thank him, and at once his face lit up with understanding.

'It was my pleasure,' he said in heavily-accented English.

'Ah, Carlo. I did not expect to find you here.' Luiz with the group of Indians following him had come ashore and he and the younger man exchanged the abraco. 'I see that you are as chivalrous as ever,' he went on in English so that Delia could understand. 'This is Delia Talbot, a journalist' who is here with us to collect information for articles. Delia, I would like you to meet Carlo Silveira, son of one of our great explorers and one of the pilots who serve the protection service so well.'

'Talbot?' queried Carlo as he shook Delia's hand. 'Any relation to Dr Talbot?'

'She is his wife,' Luiz flung over his shoulder as he went off up the slope towards the huts.

'Is this true?' exclaimed Carlo. 'How long have you been married to Edmund?'

'Two and a half years,' Delia replied as they began to walk after Luiz.

'Incredible!' he exclaimed again. 'I had no idea. I have flown Edmund to many different places during the past twelve months, and not once did he tell me he was married.'

A woman was coming down the path towards them. She was tall and slim and was dressed in pale beige cotton slacks and a matching shirt. Delia judged her to be a few years older than herself, about twenty-six. She had smooth black hair and the same lovely copper-tinted tan possessed by Rita. Stepping in front of them, she spoke curtly to Carlo in Portuguese, making a gesture towards Delia with one hand. He answered in the same language, his mouth curving on a faintly sardonic smile as he mentioned Delia's name. The woman's face stiffened and her dark long-lashed eyes widened as she turned to Delia.

'I did not know Edmund had a wife,' she said in slow careful English. 'I am Dr Zanetta Mireilles. I looked after Edmund when he had malaria after being lost in the jungle.'

'Bom dia, doctor. I'm pleased to meet you,' said Delia, offering her hand. But Zanetta had looked past her and with a muttered excuse, hurried down the slope. Turning, Delia watched her go.

Edmund was coming up the slope carrying his bag from the boat. Zanetta ran up to him. He stopped, smiled at her and said something. In answer the Brazilian woman flung her arms around him in the abrago, kissing him on both cheeks not once but three times, until, laughing, he dropped the bag and returned the embrace.

Delia turned sharply on her heel, and encountered Carlo's glinting black eyes. He seemed to be very amused by what had just happened, but he said nothing and together they walked on to the clearing.

'You and Edmund will share a hut with Manoel and Rita,' explained Luiz. 'Here we do not have the same amenities as at Posto Orlando. We sleep in hammocks and if you want a shower there is one in that hut in the centre of the compound.'

He took her to the hut. It was built on stilts and a flight o£ wooden steps led up to a waist-high doorway. Inside was a big airy room. Only one end and one side of the room were walled up to the roof. The other end and side had half walls and were open above them to the weather like a verandah. A kerosene lamp made from a cotton wick stuck in a tin can was attached to one of the tree trunks which supported the roof of plaited palm fronds and by its flickering smoky light two Indians were slinging the hammocks they had carried up from the boat, two at one end of the room.

As soon as they saw Delia they came over to her and pointed to her bag. Recognising the signs, she found sweets and cigarettes for them and they left the hut with Luiz. Rita and Manoel came in and went to their end of the, hut while Delia changed her soiled creased shirt for a clean close-fitting cotton sweater, brushed her hair and wondered where Edmund was.

The moon was large and yellow and the air was heavy with the scent of limes as she walked a little later with Rita and Manoel to the eating house, which was close to the river. On -the way in they passed the kitchen and she noticed a fire flickering on a raised platform flanked by a clay baking oven, where an elderly Indian was supervising the cooking of chunks of golden juicy meat.

'We're going to eat well again tonight,' said Rita. 'The hunters of the tribe were lucky today. They found a herd of wild boar and killed many of them.'

In the long room where they were to eat some of the hunters were sitting around Luiz describing to him with a great deal of mime how they had stalked and killed the boars. At the long table Edmund was sitting next to Zanetta Mireilles.

'Has anyone introduced you to Dr Mireilles?' Rita whispered to Delia as they took their seats on a bench on the other side of the table.

'Yes, Carlo did. She seems very young to be a doctor. Is she a volunteer?'

'Yes, from the Sao Paulo school of medicine. She wishes to specialize in tropical medicine. She comes from a very wealthy family.'

Like Edmund does, thought Delia miserably, wondering what else he had in common with the attractive, vivacious woman doctor.

'I hope you do not mind me telling you this, Delia,' said Rita, leaning closer. 'I do so out of the friendship I feel for you even though we have not known each other long. I think Zanetta became very fond of Edmund while she was at Posto Orlando and he was ill.'

And :did he become fond of her? The question leapt up in Delia's mind, but she didn't ask it because she didn't want to embarrass Rita.

She glanced surreptitiously across the table. Edmund was I sitting with his arms folded on the table. His eyes were hidden by their heavy lids and his face was wreathed in smoke from the cigarette he was smoking, but she could see he was smiling slightly as he listened to Zanetta, who was talking to him urgently with many gestures of her small slim hands.

Doctors' talk? Delia wondered. How would she ever know what was being said? How would she ever know what Edmund was thinking or if he was listening? Was he pretending to listen as he had once pretended to listen to Aunt Marsha?

Zanetta paused, looking at him expectantly. He answered at once in his fairly fluent Portuguese. She spoke again and he answered. They were engrossed in their conversation, not knowing and perhaps not caring about what was going on around them.

Jealousy rose in a green tide to swamp Delia. All day Edmund had ignored her on the boat, but this evening he could give his undivided attention to this Brazilian doctor who had greeted him as if he were her lover.

Blindly Delia turned, and found Carlo sitting on her right. She smiled at him and he smiled back, his very dark eyes crinkling at the corners.

'I am still in a state of surprise,' he confessed. 'How could Edmund come here and spend so much time here without you? He must be a little—how do you say it? Crazy in the head?' he touched his temple with his forefinger and rolled his eyes. 'Only a mad man would leave a wife as pretty as you behind for some other man to steal from him while his back is turned. And why did you let him come?'

'I couldn't stop him,' she replied.

'No? I cannot believe that. I am sure if you put your mind to it you could prevent any man from leaving you. Or are you going to tell me it is one of those modern marriages where you go your separate ways, meeting only occasionally when neither of you is too busy at your work?'

'You sound as if you don't think much of such marriages,' she parried. 'No, I don't. If I were married, which I have no intention of being just yet,' he said with his charming smile, 'I would like my wife to stay at home, look after me, the house and the children when they come.'

'But supposing you aren't there to look after? Supposing you have to go away all the time?'

'I would expect her to wait for me, be faithful to me, welcome me with open arms when I return.' He glanced across the table at Zanetta and Edmund, and leaned towards Delia until his dark head was just touching hers and with a hand to his mouth he whispered behind it, 1 do not care for cold women such as that one over there. Always she is talking about herself, how clever she is as a doctor—yap, yap, yap ! With all that talk there is no time for kissing.'

Delia couldn't help laughing, and as they ate the tender sweet wild boar meat which had a crisp crackling, and was flavoured with wood-smoke she was glad she was sitting by Carlo, for he told her amusing and sometimes hair-raising tales about his flying career in the jungle, diverting her attention from Edmund and Zanetta and making her forget her worries.

When the meal was over they went outside to sit on benches in front of the eating house and watch Indians dance, wearing feathered headdresses, and carrying spears. It was a dance of anger, Carlo told her, because they were upset about the new road which was being cut through the jungle and which would disrupt the way of life of some of the tribes. Several times during the course of the dance the warriors rushed, spears at the ready, as if about to attack the small group of white people watching them. They were expressing their determination to fight against the coming of the road.

As a breeze rustled the leaves and large bats flew across the yellow disc of the moon Delia walked to the hut, escorted by Carlo. The air was cool and smelt of damp earth as well as lime blossom, and the romantic surroundings must have stirred Carlo's blood, for at the bottom of the flight of steps he took Delia's hand in his and lifted it to his lips.

'Goodnight, Delia. I am glad you have come here and shall look forward to seeing you tomorrow,' he whispered, and turning away, walked off into the darkness.

In the hut the kerosene lamp still flickered making black

shadows dance along the walls. Delia undressed, put on her nightdress and managed to get into the hammock and under . the netting without help. Swinging gently, hearing the murmur of Rita's and Manoel's voices as they talked at the other end of the hut, she closed her eyes, although she knew she wouldn't sleep until Edmund came.

He came at last and she heard him moving quietly as he undressed and swung into his hammock. Wishing for courage to break the silence and speak to him to ask him where he had been and what he had been doing, she opened her eyes again. The room was in darkness. He had put out the lamp and the smell of the smoke tickled her nose.

She was closer to him in the night, yet she had never felt so far from him. The gulf separating them seemed to be growing wider and wider and she was sure that she had discovered why he wanted to stay in Brazil. He wanted to be with Dr Zanetta Mireilles.

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