Free A Pride of Lions by Isobel Chace

ground, now that the rain had finally come.
    I was surprised to find Hans Doffnang there before me. He was standing with an air of solid dejection, looking at the precipitous naked rock that was all that remained of the road.
    “Well?” I greeted him.
    “It is not well!” he snapped back. “Not well at all! We shall have to dynamite our way into the rock to provide a proper foundation.”
    I grimaced. “Let’s do it, then.” I said.
    “No dynamite!” he said flatly.
    We stood in the rain and considered the situation. Finally it was decided that Mr. Doffnang would go back to the camp and arrange for Johnny to fly to Nairobi to pick up some dynamite and some other supplies that we needed, while I would get the men to clear the mess of earth and roots and small rocks that had descended to the foot of the rocky table where the hotel was to be built.
    The men worked in teams. Some of the teams were formed by men of the same tribe working together, but others were mixed, so there was no rule about it. Their foremen took their job very seriously indeed and there was a great feeling of rivalry between one team and another as to who could do the most work and therefore earn the highest rates of pay. They were reluctant now to come out from under the trees into the full force of the rain.
    “It is dangerous,” one of the foremen told me. “Perhaps there is more to fall down on top of us!”
    We looked at the newly revealed naked rock in silence. “Meanwhile,” I said, “nothing can go up or come down.”
    The men nodded silently. They were mostly dressed in cotton drill shorts and torn white vests, stained rust-coloured by the red earth. Some of them had ancient well-worn felt hats, but most of them did not even have that between themselves and the pelting rain.
    “It would be good to collect the good soil for the garden,” they said. They selected a place where the mounds of earth could be moved to and stored, all of which involved endless conversation, argument and good advice. Then, at last, they picked up their hoes and, standing in lines and chanting as they went, they attacked the fallen earth, dumping it into enormous plaited baskets, while yet others carried it away from the bottom of the would-be service road.
    By lunchtime we had cleared about half of the fallen earth. Little streams of water gushed down the rocks, ruining our efforts by washing the finer soil down into the river. Fallen trees added to the task, for some of them were extremely heavy. In the end I organised a special team of men to cut up these trees into manageable pieces, some of which could be burned in the kitchen, and some of which were stacked into neat piles for later use.
    Mr. Doffnang was pleased with our efforts.
    “We have only to blast our way into that rock and we’ll have a road for all seasons!” he exclaimed, beaming at the progress the
    men had made.
    “I hope so,” I said.
    He gave me a solicitous look. “You must come back to camp,” he fussed over me. ‘You need dry clothes and—” he smiled as he caught sight of my face “—a good wash also! There is no need for you to wait here longer!”
    I went back with him willingly enough. It had been quite a day.
    “What are the others doing?” I asked him.
    “Playing poker in the bar,” he answered, his voice harsh with disapproval. “How can a young girl do such a thing?”
    I chuckled. “Why not? I expect she’s rather good at it. She doesn’t give much away, does she?”
    He seemed to resent any criticism of Janice as much as he resented her playing cards for money.
    “You must tell her!” he insisted. ‘You must tell her that it is bad for her to do such a thing!”
    I shook the rain off my eyelashes, laughing at him. “You must learn some English and then you’d be able to tell her yourself!” I told him.
    “It is shameful!” he said with dignity.
    I licked my lips, wondering how best to take his mind off the matter. “Perhaps she doesn’t agree