to wake him.’
‘And the animals?’
‘Down there too.’ He looked at her uncomfortably, eyes hooded in his brown face: ‘You’d better quit and go back today, Dr. Johnson. For your own sake.’
He had said it kindly. There was nothing she’d like better than to quit.
‘Well, I’m not going to … my own sake doesn’t matter. I’m staying for the animals’ sake.’
He built a tiny fire of dry twigs between two stones, balanced a little tin can of water and made coffee.
‘How long are you staying here?’
‘Until sunset. The animals need a good rest.’
‘And then?’
He did not answer. She wanted to cry out, For God’s sake tell me where you think you’re going.
‘The Garden of Eden, you said last night.’
Big Charlie fed twigs into the tiny fire. ‘Yes.’
She blurted, ‘There’s no such place.’
He did not answer. She closed her eyes in frustration. ‘Oh, for God’s sake give it up. They’re going to be shot to pieces. You know what a beast the American so-called hunter is! And I saw them, getting ready …’
He was staring into the little fire. Her hands were clenched; she stared at his big profile. He turned and looked at her, kindly.
‘It’s no good talking about it, Dr. Johnson.’
‘Where?’ she whispered fiercely. ‘And how the hell are you going to get there?’
‘It’s no use, Dr. Johnson. And it’s no good trying to talk to Davey about it, either. He’s got enough on his mind.’
She snorted. ‘Of course I’m going to talk to him; I don’t care how angry he gets.’
Big Charlie shook his head.
‘He won’t get mad. Takes an awful lot to make Davey mad. He just won’t argue with you, that’s all. He’ll just walk away.’
Big Charlie stood up and turned away himself.
‘Where are you going?’she appealed.
He stopped and looked back at her. Then she understood.
‘All right—I won’t talk about it anymore. Please don’t leave me here …’
‘Okay. Come with me.’
He started walking back up the mountain. She started hurrying painfully after him.
About half a mile up the mountain, on a rocky outcrop, sat Sam, on guard, thumping his tail in welcome.
She would remember it disjointedly: her body aching, her head light from not enough sleep; the unreality of the forest, the animals, the twittering of the birds through her harried thoughts; the whole extraordinary thing. The big Indian sat, waiting. The gentleness behind his bulk, the quiet strength that did not need to be leashed because it was so … confident? So gentle that she did not want to upset him by breaking her bargain. She would, she had to—but at the right moment.
And the strange, beautiful wolf-dog, Sam. He was so serious, ears cocked, staring fixedly up the mountainside. Suspicious of her, tolerating her only because of the Indian’s presence. She wanted him to accept her, she wanted to stretch out and fondle him, tell him he was a good dog. But she didn’t—it would almost have been a presumption, an intrusion into such professionalism. But all the while was the frustration of waiting.
‘Does Sam understand?’
The wolf laid his ears back, but did not turn.
‘Sure.’
‘That he’s on guard for pursuers?’
Big Charlie looked at her. ‘Of course. He’s trained.’
Of course. It seemed a silly question now. ‘What’ll he do if he sees anybody coming? Bark?’
‘Run and wake Davey. He knows he’s got to keep his mouth shut unless it’s a real emergency.’
Oh, lovely Sam …
‘Is he very fierce?’
A wisp of a smile crossed Charlie’s face.
‘He’s pretty friendly.’
‘But would he attack?’
‘Only if he had to. Then he’d be fierce. But usually his bark’s worse than his bite.’
She smiled. ‘How does he like the other animals?’
‘He likes them fine. He’s used to them.’
‘But he’s never had to herd them before.’
‘No. I guess he’s not too crazy about that. They’re all pretty big.’ He added. ‘The big cats, he’s not too keen on them.’
For the first time in a long time she smiled, and tears burned in her eyes. Oh, Sam …
‘I don’t blame him,’ she whispered. ‘Does he chase ordinary cats?’
‘If he gets the chance. But with these big ones? He’s not stupid, Sam.’
They both smiled. It was a little shared amusement at Sam’s expense. Then the moment passed. Charlie looked solemn again.
‘And the other animals? Do you think they understand what’s happening?’
Big Charlie looked surprised. ‘Sure.’
She felt almost foolish.
‘But how?’
He looked at her. ‘Because they know. That they’re out of their cages and running away: Davey’s telling them to run.’ He added, They can feel what each other’s feeling. They know. There’s a—sort of bond between them. To follow and run. Can’t you feel it?’
Yes, she could. But no, she did not believe it. Not a bond, a common purpose, to run away from their cages. Surely they wanted to be back in their cages, where it was safe; they were frightened, that’s why they were running. They were only keeping together because they were frightened, and because they were trained animals, and because Davey Jordan was the only security blanket they had.
The silence returned. Just the occasional cheeping of a bird. The vast, eerie wilderness. Her nerves were tight with the waiting—waiting for David Jordan to wake up so she could try to talk him out of this madness.
Then, completely silently, he was there. Sam’s tail thumped in greeting; she looked around, and he was standing behind her: a lean young man, with
