The Mzungu Boy Read Free Page A

the pool. I knew from experience that they were very hard to catch.
    Eventually my patience was rewarded. A family of ducks came floating downstream, moving with the current and letting the water carry them around the rocks and under the roots of the trees. They shot into the still pool and went round and round in the eddies without moving their feet until they reached the dark, quiet places where the water never moved.
    There were ten of them — a mother, a father and eight ducklings with yellow bellies and pink feet and beaks. They swam around the pool picking insects and bits of leaves out of the water. The ducklings followed their mother wherever she went, picked at whatever she picked at. She behaved just like a mother hen. The only difference was that she could swim and lived in water.
    They were not at all surprised to find me at their favorite pool. We had met many times before and they knew me.
    A long green snake shot across the pool, swam very fast past the ducks and slithered into the undergrowth on the far bank. The ducks ignored the snake. I was not afraid either. It was a harmless river snake. I was only afraid of the poisonous puff-adder and the grass vipers.
    In the trees above the pool, parrots feasted on the seeds of the pondo trees. A turaco flew down from the tree and went chattering down the river.
    Suddenly the father duck squawked and took off downstream, closely followed by the mother duck and her ducklings. In a moment they were gone, ducking under the overhanging bush and out of sight.
    I searched the river bank above and along the foot path for the cause of their alarm. Apart from the wind blowing in the trees and the river murmuring on the stones, the forest was quiet.
    Then I heard it, the crack of a breaking twig deep in the shadows. I saw a slight movement where the sound had come from.
    I peered across the river. For a long moment I saw nothing. Then I saw a dark shadow cross a spot of light. I couldn’t tell whether it was human or animal, so faint was the movement.
    I sniffed the air. There was the unmistakable smell of wild buffalo in the air. This made me even more restless. A few weeks before his hunting rifle went missing, Bwana Ruin had shot a lone buffalo that had frightened the herdsmen and killed some dogs in the forest.
    I would never forget the smell of buffalo.
    I was so busy searching the shadows for buffalo that I did not see the men until they stepped out of the shadows onto the bank. There were two of them, big and bearded, wearing dark green greatcoats. One of them had a big hunting rifle like the one Bwana Ruin had lost, and the other one was armed with a spear and a club.
    The one with the gun waved.
    I waved back. They did not look like forest guards so I decided to go home. I stood up, fear gnawing at my courage.
    â€œAre you from this farm?” the man asked.
    â€œYes,” I said.
    â€œDo you know Hari?” he asked.
    â€œYes,” I answered.
    The men looked at each other. The one with the gun beckoned.
    â€œCome,” he said.
    â€œWhat for?” I asked.
    â€œI want to send you,” he said. “To Hari.”
    He reached into the pocket of his greatcoat. I was quite scared now.
    â€œNo,” I said. “Don’t send me. I must go home now.”
    â€œWait!” he said.
    But I could not wait any longer. I hopped back to the edge of the river and scrambled up the bank. There I came face to face with real terror. Barring my way to the top were three wild men who smelled like buffalo and carried spears and rungus. One of them had a long ugly scar on his cheek.
    I dodged past them. The one with the scar caught me by the neck and lifted me off my feet. He shook me like a jimi shaking rabbits in its teeth.
    When he put me down I had no more fight left. He held me by the neck until the other two had crossed the river.
    â€œWhy do you run?” asked the one with the rifle.
    â€œI want to go