Two Moons is a new novel by J. Raymond Ractliffe that explores the inner spirit life of Africa, her people and their powerful faith in the world of the Unseen.
The acacia tree stood silhouetted in the still night. Even the stars seemed to be directing their blinking light at the twisted limbs as they stretched out into the open air offering night time sanctuary to the birds and nest for the weary traveller. Jeremy had not slept. The night time music of a land teeming with life offered him no solace in which to ease his mind to slumber. One does not hear the death struggles in the night under the comfort of an eiderdown or mosquito net. The inner confines of a white washed home dull the night time roar or successful hunt, the bleating of a caught impala, drawn up into the shelter of a tree away from other hungry marauders. A dying wail too weak to penetrate past the open veranda and Mozart playing softly at the bed side table. Hour by hour he had listened to the teeming rustling of the night, his mind filling in the gaps where his eyes could not see. Below him, he could hear the ever stirring of his night time stalker as the hyena periodically slept with one open eye, a peaked ear pointed in his direction, its head laying on its front paws, listening to the slightest sign of him scaling down the tree to flee. His mind and heart wondered to the farm, of Claire alone for a second night. It had pained him to think of his Claire, pacing the wide veranda by the hour, watching for news on the simmering late horizon. The revered tall grandfather clock in the hall way, lovingly polished to a luster with brass glittering under the The two farm hands Claire had sent in the early morning, Thomas and Kashezwe, had returned at the end of the day, coming slowly up the dusty road leading to the big house. An overturned cup of cold tea marked where she had first seen them coming from the veranda. Claire's bright shoes lay by the side of the road, kicked off as she ran to them. Fearing the worst, Claire had listened quietly in between long and controlled breaths as they told of their day's journey and the signs they had found in the sand and grasses. The trail told, of the great horned one, charging out of a deep bush with a great roar. They found it as had been left, its long horn ploughed into the sand, a small hole below the shoulder where Jeremy's passing shot had torn out its heart and pink lungs. The footprints of frightened Matthew, directly in front of this mad rush and then laying on the side of the trail and of thick cooled blood in the sand. They found young saplings cut from long poles taken from the dark under bush, where they had laid Matthew between them and made him a bed in which to sleep. Two sets of hurried footprints left dead rhino, not in the direction of the farm but away, south to the rolling hills where there was only open land and the winds from the far away mountains. Claire could not have understood why they had not continued following the trail until they had found them all, and why they had returned empty handed. Flushed with emotion, hands moving, drawing directions in the air, Claire sent them back out immediately, to backtrack as far as they could go before the coming nightfall and then to set out again at first light to find them. The returning men did not talk of the rifles found propped up against a solitary tree. They had created a second set of prints approaching from the south, and leaving in the same direction. The trail lost on the stones and under bush. The rifles were carefully concealed now, wrapped in worn grey cloth, laid under stone and loose gravel just outside the farm boundary, to be retrieved when a trip to town would not attract any attention. In the dusty dark backrooms of a trader's warehouse, well-oiled firearms were quickly bought with cash loudly smacked on the dealers table, concluding the successful transaction to waiting eager hands. Claire had returned to the veranda to begin the coming night time lookout. Eyes filled with worried tears stared at the shimmering road before her, her hand trembling now with fear as she drank from her new cup of evening tea. The tea biscuits and light sandwiches lying untouched like the lunchtime and dinner meal before. She could not think of where they had taken the now wounded Matthew. Claire tried not to imagine what wounds a charging rhino could wreck on the body of a young boy. Jeremy and Konjaru had not set out to find their doctor but had wondered off into the bush to find God knows what. Claire finally gave into the fatigue and worry. Great tears rose up for a moment and fell cascading down her cheeks, her hand on her chest catching the deep sobs as they tore at her. The house returned to its eerie quiet calm, no footsteps or hurried feet, no cupboard doors closing as the last dish or linen was put away. Hands working in the kitchen without sound, nods or eyes darting the only movement. Out in the night, Jeremy tried to think of the next trip to town. Early morning down the long dusty road in the Land Rover, horns blaring scattering wild and domestic game, running naked children and early smoke from the village fires. Gloved hands clutching white hats, wind in their faces and laughter all the way to the market. Post retrieved, a walk across the road to the Club. A chance meeting with old friends. After a quick tea, the women teeming up to shop together, leaving the men to their own deep conversations and an occasional backslap and scented pipe. Jeremy's eyes finally closed, a smile on his parched lips. He drifted into the folds of memories and smiles. The stars lowering their blinking for just a moment, even the land conspired to sooth him, dulling out the sound and life around him. His breathing slowed, the last of the adrenaline leaving his heart allowing it to rest. He tugged weakly one last time at his belt wrapped around his arm binding him to the tree. Secured and safe, Jeremy finally gave in to the exhaustion and pain of the day and closed the window of his mind. Suddenly, he was in mid air, the tree spinning away from him in darkness all around him. His arm reached out and caught the last tree branch and it spun him sideways before the ground beneath him rose up and knocked the air out of his lungs. His arm was bent under him and strained at the force of impact. The blue tinged ankle roared in pain as it smacked the earth, sending shooting pain up through his bruised body. Jeremy lay for a while as the impact of the fall left his limbs. One by one the blunted sensations returned. Ribs bruised made breathing hard, his ankle now surely a mess and the sweet metallic taste of blood in his mouth from a bleeding nose trickled back down his throat. While he lay there trying to clear the mists that clouded his stunned and bewildered mind, an alarm was screaming in his head. Something he already knew about danger, right there beside him. It was finally the grunt and rustle, the quick intake of air, wet sniffing no more than a few feet from him that jarred him back to life. "Have to move, now!" Jeremy rolled over quickly, eyes darting to and fro, searching for the yellow hunter that had stalked him since Jeremy was at the base of the tree, just to or three feet from the trunk. He could not see his walking stick. He could sense more than see, the hyena. Even the downwind stench from its drooling mouth as a carrion eater, made finding it easier. A snarl and whoop told him, the hyena was gaining courage at this opportunity. Jeremy turned one legged and as he had done hours before, grasped the trunk with his wounded leg and leaped up to find the lowest branch. His arm waved frantically in the air but found nothing and he landed one-legged back down to the ground. The hyena was sensing his time was now or never. It scampered a few feet forward, its head bobbing up and down, watching Jeremy's initial leap to safety. Catching his breath quickly, Jeremy paused for just a moment, again holding firm his wounded leg around the trunk and then with a heave and grunt willing him up, he leapt up into the arms of the tree, arm flaying to find the lowest branch which he caught and held on firmly to steady himself. The hyena sprang forward at the remaining leg wrapped around the truck. The massive yellow teeth dove deeply into the soft blue tinged tissue, crunching down through the bones, pulling with his high hunched shoulders and full body weight to bring him down. Jeremy screamed as its jaws clamped down on him, the pain exploding into him. His piercing cry carried into the darkness, causing all life to pause as it heard another of The moon reappeared suddenly from behind the cloud as it drifted away to the low hills, its blue light shining now on the bloody death struggle of man and beast. He could feel the sinews tearing in his leg, the teeth had gone through and now the massive strength in its legendary jaws were clamping down into its death grip. His fingers were slowly loosing their grip as it the teeth tugged and tore at him, his blistered hands now tearing at the bark for a stronger grip. Once last kick at the searing pain caught the hyena right on its broad nose and for a moment it released it's vice grip. His bloody foot suddenly free from its attacker, Jeremy pulled himself up with his remaining strength, trembling hands finding the "Y" fork that had been his bed. The hyena stood on its haunches against the tree, snorting loudly, trying to find the blood source now dripping from above. Jeremy was going into shock. He could feel the wetness running down his foot, dripping below to the dry sand. Afraid of passing out, he clung to the trunk of the tree, hoping the head rush and lightheadedness would pass. If he fell now, his life would be over. On the ground he would be no match. A snarling rush, before rancid breath and long teeth dug deep and tore at his throat, one or two tugs would rip away his life. His eyes would still have the last remaining oxygen enriched blood in them as he watched his body being tugged and ripped before the silence came. There would be no trace of him for his burial. An empty casket and memories, all Claire would have to grieve and place flowers on from their home. His bones crushed for their marrow, the ants leaving not a trace, until the grasses and sand drifted over them. He could feel his mind slipping, wishing to escape the pain and gripping fear. His trembling fingers tried to dig into the skin of the tree, to hold fast and secure. Gritting his teeth as the pain waves hit him, Jeremy tried to control his breathing. Slowly inhaling, slowly exhaling. It took many minutes before the pain spasms could be controlled. By then, he had realized through the veils of pain, the blood loss and shock would kill him, as surly as the long teeth below could have done. Panting with shaking hand, Jeremy reached up and took off his bandanna and with his teeth, tore off a strip down its length and then another. One arm now holding around the tree trunk, he tied the pieces together firmly, pulling it tight with his teeth. He cracked off a small branch from above and tied one end of the cloth to it. Now he lowered it to below his knee and with a flick, tried to whip the cloth wrap around his leg. It took a few attempts before he could make out in the moon light that he had been successful. Pausing now, not to loose what he had made by it tumbling away in the darkness, Jeremy waited for a minute. He could feel the slow trickle of blood as it rolled down his foot, it was cold and tickled strangely as it fell. Wedging one foot against the tree trunk, Jeremy had to raise the knee of his wounded leg slightly now, so he could reach it with both hands, tilting precariously on the limb. Holding the stick with one hand, he tied the other end of the cloth to the stick and began to twist it. He hoped the tourniquet would slow his blood loss, until help would come from someone Claire had sent out from the farm. They would have to go all the way to the compound with the old Milk Eyed Woman, and then to strike out after him on his own trail as he had gone to find his way home to the Blue Barn He realized he would not be walking home at first light. Treed by the skulking hyena below, he had little chance of making it out here on his own strength. All through the remaining night, he would have to tie his lower leg tight, holding the blood back from the wounds, then releasing it periodically to allow new blood to feed starving muscles and bone before damaging vital tissue. The coming blood would bring new layers of pain, jarring his mind and leaving him panting in the darkness. Time was now the enemy. Unless he was found soon, the blood would have poured out of him in a crimson pool below. Loss of blood and dehydration would kill him. He was mortally wounded. The eyes watching him now never left him. The taste of blood had fevered the primitive mind, saliva now pooling between yellow paws as she lay panting and waiting. The sun was hours away, a bloodied hunt successful - it was now only a matter of time before what had crawled up into the tree would become limp and feint at the loss of blood and fall to the eagerly waiting ground below. It would be there, hungry. Ready to seize his bloodied prize. The stars winked at the early victor. Ngai walked on.
Chapter 21
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