head. Dawie was clutching at straws. During most of the journey before the storm, they’d seen hardly another soul.
* * *
The dog lay down to rest at the foot of the inselberg. Leo got there a minute or two later and slumped down next to him. “So where’s everyone?” he said when there was no welcoming shout, no rush of eager friends to bring him water.
The panting dog ignored him, his eyes closed.
“I guess they’re waiting further down the track,” Leo said. “Or on the road.” He picked himself up and set off in the direction of the road, making sure the inselberg was behind him and to his left. That way, even though the track was hidden beneath the sand, he wouldn’t lose his bearings again.
The further he trudged, though, the more nervous he got. The desert went on and on. There was no sign of a track or a road. Not only that; the sun was in front, sinking toward the horizon – the western horizon.
It means I’m going west. But we turned left off the road and headed west. So I should be going the other way, east, to get back to the road. “Unless,” he said out loud, “this isn’t the same place and the dog’s no search dog but just a stray after all.”
A stray that had led him on a wild goose chase!
Confused, he turned to see the dog digging a hole at the bottom of the hill. It was a deep hole, judging from the way only his tail and hindquarters were visible. His head, shoulders, back and chest were right inside the hole.
“What’s he doing now?”
The dog backed out of the hole and looked across to Leo. A glistening wetness darkened the fur around his mouth.
“Water!” Leo cried. “You’ve found water.”
They hadn’t been wandering aimlessly. The dog was as good as a St Bernard. He had known all along where he was going: to a hidden well at the foot of an inselberg that looked like any other in the desert. It was like he’d purposefully fetched Leo to lead him there.
Side-by-side, and upside down, they steeped their faces in the small pool. They drank, and drank, and drank. Slurpily, messily, greedily. Even though it was gritty with sand, the water was the most delicious Leo had ever tasted. It broke the drought inside his mouth and gave him back his life.
“How did you know it was there, dog?” he said when his thirst was slaked. “Could you smell it?” They’d pulled themselves out of the well and were watching the sand collapse back in, making a secret of the water again. Leo took careful note of where it was: in front of a huge triangular boulder that jutted out between two round rocks. If the dog abandoned him, he’d at least know where to find the water.
For the time being, though, the dog was going nowhere. He was dozing at Leo’s side.
Leo looked at his ribs and the jutting right angle of his hip bone. “You could do with some food, hey, dog,” he said and began to feel his own hunger. What was there to eat in the desert? Just about nothing, going by the dog’s lean figure.
The pair lay stretched out on the sand. To the west, the sun was a giant tangerine ball hanging low in an orange sky. Its heat was just a memory now. But the sinking sun would soon bring a new problem.
Night.
Then what? Heat and thirst had been Leo’s enemies by day. What enemies would the night bring? Deadly scorpions he could not see? Nocturnal predators, hyenas even, that he had no defence against? Bitter cold? And worst of all, darkness that would make him invisible to people who might be searching for him.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
