Page 86 of In the Heat of the Jungle

Leigh stared at the water container. Images of Jace flooded her head. He had sneaked into her tent, pinned her down, held her nose, and forced her to drink a bitter liquid. Now she was alone with these two men, his men. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

One man pointed to himself and said, “Jomo.” He motioned to the other and said, “Buha.” He untied a bundle and handed her a note.

Leigh took the paper and read it:

Dear Miss Webster,

Jomo and Buha do not speak English. They will take good care of you. Don’t forget your quinine tablets every day. Drink only the water they provide. They will not harm you if you behave yourself, but they are ordered to make certain you do as told. Escape is impossible. They’re taking you to my home to await my arrival. I should be there within three to four weeks. Abena will see to your needs. Don’t try anything reckless or foolish. A few words you might need:asanteis thank you,ndiyois yes,hapanais no,chakulais food,majiis water,kulais eat,lalais sleep,acheniis stop,bibiis lady, andiyoomeans you need to be excused. Good luck. You’ll need it, my golden lioness, my deceitful beauty. Soon all your secrets and charms will be mine.

Jace

Leigh eyed the two men and plundered through the bundle. Jace must have assumed Chad told her about their wager that day because he had started acting strangely afterward. If this was a trick to save her life or one to keep them together, why hadn’t he told her and enlisted her approval and aid? His note was far from a love letter. Something was terribly wrong. She was astonished by Jace’s boldness. She could not imagine how he hoped to get away with such a deed. Surely Chad was enraged by now and would have the authorities searching for her soon. Surely the first place they would look was the plantation. Jace would never kill all of them just to kidnap her!

Her mind was in a maelstrom. He could have faked an abduction by natives, particularly if he had an unshakable alibi this time, such as the others on the hunt not knowing he had sneaked away for a time. Farfetched though it was, he could have hired friendly natives to dress as savage warriors to fool Louisa and Cynthia into being witnesses to her false kidnapping.

Leigh knew that Jace wasn’t rash or stupid or crazy. There had to be a way for him to carry out this treachery without endangering or incriminating himself. How, she fretted, and why? She noticed the bandage on her leg. She yanked it off and gaped at the injury that appeared to be a snakebite. More wild speculations raced through her mind. Even if he faked a bite, how could he fake her death? How could he get her “body” away from Chad? Even if he pulled this stunt before the others reached camp, Chad would insist on viewing the evidence of her death.

Jomo brushed away mosquitoes and flies from the tiny wounds and rebandaged her leg to protect it. He offered her water again.

Leigh took the canteen and drank. It did not take long to realize it was not drugged, but Jace’s wicked deed in her tent made her suspicious of those other drugging incidents. She could not help but believe he had been behind them. She had given him a last chance to be honest with her, and this was his response. She ate the bread and tropical fruit handed to her. All she could do was obey the men. As Jace’s note warned, she could not escape into the perilous jungle. In a short time, she was feeling strong and healthy again.

The men gathered their burdens, placed Leigh between them, and their journey continued.

~*~

That night, camp consisted of a protective fire, three bedrolls under mosquito netting, a few supplies, and the three people. The two men talked to each other, but Leigh could not understand them. She wished she knew more African words than Jace had supplied. A lion roared in the distance. She clutched her cover to her neck and wished for a weapon. Despite her tension and doubts, she fell asleep, the walk having exhausted her.

~*~

They traveled for three days, trekking through the jungle and across grasslands without sighting anyone. Each night, Jomo boiled water and filled their canteens. Buha hunted small game and fruit for their meals. The two men shared camp chores. They allowed her to slip behind underbrush whenever she said,“lyoo.”They even corrected her pronunciations of their words and taught her a few more. If only she knew how to say, “help,” “crime,” and “reward for rescue.” But even if she could, she doubted it would matter to them.

On the second evening, she had been permitted to bathe in a safe pool where water cascaded from a foothill. She had donned clean garments and washed the others, which would be dry by morning to pack. Leigh was glad Jace had sent along a few extra items.

On the third day, Jomo had whispered,“Acheni.”

Leigh had stopped as ordered. Jomo had pointed to a leopard on early prowl. They had hidden until the spotted predator was gone. Leigh had been nervous, but the two men had carbines. She hadn’t been tempted to steal or to snatch one to escape, as she knew she could never make it out of the jungle alone. She didn’t even know which direction to take to civilization and safety.

During the trek, the two men called her “Bibi Leigh.” They were friendly, protective, and kind.

On what she assumed was the fifth day since her abduction, Jomo pointed ahead to reveal Jace’s home.

Leigh was amazed by what loomed before her wide eyes. There was an enormous clearing where coffee bushes covered the ground for a long distance. She noticed native workers amongst them.

Foothills surrounded the clearing, slopes with lush vegetation and trees. There was a huge open shed with equipment. A few hundred yards from it was a white wall that encircled the large home. Between solid sections, there was iron fencing. No doubt, she mused, to keep out wild animals while allowing for scenic views and air flow, and too high to scale for escape. Green Hills Plantation, how aptly it was named.

Leigh followed the two men to a gate. It was open. They did not enter, but Jomo called to the housekeeper. She stared at what reminded her of a Spanish hacienda with its woodwork, style, white exterior, arched walkway, and red roof. The yards were clean. Floral bushes and tropical plants created a beautiful and tranquil setting. A swing for two was suspended from the branch of a large tree. A water-supply system could be seen over the roof: a giant container to catch rainwater, then pipes to let off the excess and carry it inside. She guessed the encompassing white-painted wall was ten feet high. She glanced through the decorative iron fencing that was located every ten feet or so along the wall. She scanned her surroundings again. Everything was breathtaking, incredible. She had difficulty believing she was in a jungle in Africa.

“Jambo,Abena.Habari?” Jomo greeted the stocky African woman who joined them and asked how she was doing.

“Mzuri. Karibu. Habari ya safari?”Abena told them she was fine, welcomed them, and asked how their journey went.

After the three Africans talked a few minutes, the older woman met the blonde’s gaze and said, “Welcome, Bibi Leigh. You expected. I here to serve you. Come inside to rest.”

“You speak English,” Leigh murmured in surprise and relief.

“I speak pretty good English.Kwaheri,” she told the two men good-bye. “Come. Must eat, rest, bathe.”

Leigh observed the woman of about fifty who was short and plump. Abena wore a colorful shift in native material. A matching bandanna concealed her hair. The woman smiled, exposing white teeth amidst a deep brown complexion. Her chocolate eyes sparkled with interest and friendliness. “Where is your daughter, Ka’arta?” Leigh tested Jace’s words in Mombasa.

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