Harry Cavendish Read Online Free PDF Page B

dense vegetation on both banks. Ancient trees draped vines and creepers into the water, and Cormack could see flocks of gaily coloured birds, big as vultures, perched high in their branches. All the while, coming from the forest, were strange animal calls, baboons perhaps, thought Cormack, although he could see nothing through the foliage. Occasionally, a tree would shake violently, and then another next to it, and there would be a commotion of grunts and whoops and shrieks, as though that part of the forest had come alive, and then the sounds would die again to the solitary whoops, the baboons, thought Cormack hopefully, that were watching them pass from their tidy nests in the trees.
    He moved to the back of the tuk-tuk, and leaned over a little to watch the wake that frothed like bubbled rails behind them.
    The Guards were following closely. He counted six more floating tuk-tuks, with Proton in the first, perched on the bow, laser gun ready and pointed at Cormack. He gave him a cheery wave and Proton responded with a grin.
    Far in the distance, back towards the landing ground, he could see two small objects in the sky like kites, slowly moving towards them. It must be the couple from the Outer Hebrides, gliding to town, he thought.
    ‘Not so close to the water, skinny man,’ said Stanton Bosch. ‘Keep your hands far from the water.’
    ‘Do you see my friends?’ said Cormack, pointing at the sky.
    ‘Holy crap!’ said Stanton Bosch. ‘What is that?’
    ‘It’s the hang-gliders.’
    ‘Oh, my good Lord!’
    The hang-gliders were picking up speed and coming in fast, but they seemed to have lost a thermal because they were losing height at the same time.
    As they got closer, Stanton Bosch announced, ‘We should take avoiding action,’ and he signalled to the other tuk-tuks with a motion of his arm that they were to follow him to the farther bank.
    It became apparent that the couple were having difficulties. They were yawing from side to side and working the control bars left to right, searching for the gusts that would take them higher. But every time they caught a flurry that raised them a few feet, there followed a downdraft that undid whatever small gain they had made, and pushed them down a few feet further for good measure. Their difficulties seemed extended to the steering, because now one of them, the woman, was headed for the branches of a tree on the farthest bank.
    ‘Oh, good Lord!’ cried Stanton Bosch. ‘Don’t let her land in a tree! For mercy’s sake! Let her die in the river!’
    ‘Die in the river?’ said Cormack.
    ‘Aye! Twould be quicker!’
    She had lost control totally now and was going to crash-land somewhere near the bank.
    Her partner had fought the crosswinds manfully and had managed to steer himself right next to her, but it was a futile manoeuvre because there was nothing he could do to save her, and he was in fact imperilling himself. She made one last desperate turn, missed the low overhanging branch of a giant mahogany tree by a whisker, and was down in the water with a splash. The man couldn’t circle any longer either and he came down too, at speed, as his wing strut collapsed under the pressure of a turn made too tight. He landed in the water right besides her.
    As soon as they were in the river, before they even had time to call out to each other, there was a great bubbling and frothing beneath them, as though they were hot as pokers and had set the water boiling, and in amongst the bubbles Cormack could see glints of silver flashing all around.
    ‘The fish!’ cried Stanton Bosch. ‘Watch the little natterjackers go!’
    They were flying on them now, leaping from the water to get at them, until they were armoured with a living sheen, covered with two great writhing balls of fish that rose six feet from the water.
    Then, as soon it had started, it was over and the fish were gone, sunk back into the river and washed away in its murkiness, leaving no trace of the delightful