Sunbird (29 page)

^{'Is that all?' he asked, and there was an irritable tone to his voice. 'Just this passage and pots and old bones? There must be something more!'}

^{It came as a shock to me to realize that he was actually disappointed. For me the universe could hold no richer prize, this was the culminating moment of my life - and Louren was disappointed. I felt anger start to hiss and bubble within me.}

^{'What the hell do you want?' I demanded, 'Gold and diamonds and ivory sarcophagi and--'}

^{'Something like that.'}

^{'You don't even know what we've got here yet, and already it's not enough.'}

^{'Ben, I didn't say that.'}

^{'You know what's wrong with you, Louren Sturvesant? You're bloody well spoiled. You've got everything, so nothing is good enough for you.'}

^{'Now, listen here!' I saw my own anger reflected in his eyes, but I rushed on regardlessly.}

^{'I've planned and saved and worked for this all my life. And now I achieve it, and what do you do?'}

^{'Hey, Ben!' I saw comprehension in his eyes suddenly, 'I didn't mean it that way. I'm not knocking your achievement. I really think it's the most incredible discovery ever made in Africa, I was just--'}

^{It took him a few minutes of hard talking to mollify me, but at last I grinned reluctantly.}

^{'Okay.' I relented, 'just don't go saying things like that, Lo. All my life the bastards have been putting down my discoveries and theories, so don't you start!'}

^{'One thing they'll never be able to say about you is that you're frightened to speak your mind!' He punched my shoulder lightly. 'Come on, Ben, let's see what we've got in these pots.'}

^{'We shouldn't disturb them, Lo.' I was ashamed of my outburst now, and eager to make it up to him. 'Not until we have mapped and charted--'}

^{'A couple of them are lying on the floor, knocked off the shelves,' Louren pointed. 'There are thousands of the bloody things. We will just snaffle one of them. Hell, Ben, it won't do that much harm!'}

^{He was not asking permission, not Louren Sturvesant, he was merely giving an order in the pleasantest possible fashion. Already he was making his way back to where the jars were lying beside the dusty bowed corpse, and I hurried after him.}

^{'Okay,' I agreed unnecessarily, in an attempt to keep nominal control of my find. 'We will remove one of them only ' I felt a sneaking sense of relief that the wrong decision had been made for me. I was also in a fever of impatience to find out what was in the jars.}

^{The jar stood in the centre of the workshop bench in our prefabricated warehouse. Night had fallen outside, but the overhead lights were all on. We stood around the bench, Sally, Ral, Leslie and I. Tinus van Vuuren was still up at the cavern, his status having changed from mine captain to night-watchman. Louren had decided to place a twenty-four-hour armed guard over the entrance to the tunnel, and Tinus was it - until we could get others.}

^{Through the thin partition walls of the hut I could hear Louren's voice as he shouted into the microphone of the radio.}

^{'A vacuum cleaner.
Vacuum cleaner
. VACUUM CLEANER! V for Venereal, A for Alcoholic - that's
right
. Vacuum cleaner. You know the heavy-duty model for cleaning factories. Two of them. Have you got that? Good! Now I want you to get on to Robeson, Head of Security at Sturvesant Diamond Mines. He is to send me his two best men, with half a dozen Bantu guards. Yes, that's right. Yes, I want them armed.'}

^{None of us paid attention to Louren's voice, we were all staring in mesmerized fascination at the earthenware jar.}

^{'Well, it's not filled with gold.' Ral was certain. 'Not heavy enough.'}

^{'Nor is it liquid - not wine or oil,' Leslie agreed. And we relapsed into silence. The pot was about eighteen inches high, and thick around as a pickle jar. It was of unglazed red pottery, without inscription or ornamentation, and the lid was like that of a teapot with a small knob for a handle. It was sealed with a layer of black substance, probably gum or wax.}

^{'Get that lot on the Dakota first thing tomorrow morning, do you hear?' Louren was still busy next door.}

^{'I wish he'd hurry up!' Sally stirred impatiently. 'I'm dying to find out what it is.'}

^{Suddenly I was afraid. I didn't want to know - I didn't want to find the jar filled with African millet or some other indigenous grain. I could hear my critics howling like wolves out there in the wilderness. Suddenly I was doubting my own premonition of some momentous discovery and I sat on the edge of my stool, miserably rubbing my grimy hands together and staring at the jar. Perhaps Louren was right, perhaps we would echo his cry, 'Is that all?'}

^{From the radio shack we heard Louren's voice end the transmission, and he came through into the warehouse. He was still filthy from the work in the tunnel, and his golden hair was stiff with dust and dried sweat. Yet the grime and unruly curls gave him an air of romance, the jaunty look of an old-time pirate. He stood in the doorway with his thumbs hooked into his belt, and all our attention was on him. He grinned at me.}

^{'Okay, Ben. What have you got for us?' he asked and sauntered across the room to stand behind my shoulder. Instinctively the others drew closer, crowding into a circle around me and I picked up the surgical scalpel and touched the point of it to the joint of the lid.}

^{The first touch told me that my guess had been correct.}

^{'Bee's wax, I think.'}

^{Carefully I scraped it away, then laid the scalpel aside and gently tried the lid. It came away with surprising ease.}

^{All heads craned forward, but the first view of the contents was disappointing. An amorphous mass of substance that was stained dirty yellow-brown by time.}

^{'What is it?' Louren demanded of his experts, but none of us could answer him. I was not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. It certainly wasn't corn.}

^{'It smells,' said Sally. There was a faintly unpleasant, but familiar odour.}

^{'I know that smell,' I said.}

^{'Yes,' agreed Leslie.}

^{We stared at the pot trying to place it. Then suddenly I remembered.}

^{'It smells like a tannery works.'}

^{'That's it!' agreed Sally.}

^{'Leather?' asked Louren.}

^{'Let's see,' I said, and carefully tipped the jar onto its side with the mouth facing me. Gently I began easing the contents out of the jar. It became immediately clear that it held something cylindrical in shape and of a hard, brittle texture.}

^{It seemed to have stuck to the inside of the jar, but I twisted carefully and with a faint rending sound it was loose. I inched it out of the jar, and as it emerged, there was a running commentary from the watchers.}

^{'It's a long round thing.'}

^{'Looks like a polony sausage.'}

^{'It's wrapped in cloth.'}

^{'Linen, I hope!'}

^{'It's woven anyway. That will take some explaining away as Bantu culture!'}

^{'The cloth is rotten, it's falling away in patches.'}

^{I laid it on the table, and as I stared at it I knew all my dreams had become reality.
I knew what it was
. A treasure beyond all the gold and diamonds Louren had hoped for. I looked up quickly at Sally to see if she had guessed, her expression was eager but puzzled. Then her eyes met mine and my jubilation must have been obvious.}

^{'Ben!' She guessed then. 'It isn't? Oh, Ben, it couldn't be! Open it, man! For God's sake, open it!'}

^{I took up a pair of tweezers, but my hands were too unsteady to work. I clenched my fists, and drew a couple of deep breaths to try and calm the racing of my blood and the pounding of it in my ears.}

^{'Here, let me do it,' said Ral, and reached to take the tweezers from my grip.}

^{'No!' I snatched my hand away. I think I would have struck him if he had persisted. I saw the shock on Ral's face, he had never before seen the violence that lurks in my depths.}

^{They all waited until I had got control of my hands again. Then carefully I began to peel the wrappings of brittle yellow cloth from the cylinder. I saw it appear from under the wrappings, and there were no more doubts. I heard Sally's little gasp from across the bench, but I did not look up until it was done.}

^{'Ben!' she whispered, 'I'm so happy for you,' And I saw that she was crying, big fat tears sliding slowly down her cheeks. This was what triggered me, I am certain that if she hadn't started it I would have been all right, but suddenly my own eyes were burning and my vision blurred with moisture.}

^{'Thanks, Sal,' I said, and my voice was soggy and nasal. When I felt the droplets start to spill on to my cheeks I struck them away with an angry hand, and groped for my handkerchief. I blew my nose like a bugler sounding the charge, and my heart sang as loudly.}

^{It was a tightly rolled cylindrical scroll of leather. The outer edges of the scroll were tattered and eaten by decomposure. The rest of it, however, was miraculously preserved. There were lines of writing running like columns of little black insects along the length of the scroll. I recognized the symbols immediately, identifying the individual letters of the Punic alphabet. It was written in a flowing Punic script, of which the first thirty lines were exposed on the roll of ancient leather. The language was not one I understood, but I looked up at Sally again. This was her speciality, she had worked with Hamilton at Oxford.}

^{'Sal, can you read it? What is it?'}

^{'It's Carthaginian,' she spoke with complete certainty. 'Punic!'}

^{'Are you sure?' I demanded.}

^{In reply she read aloud in a voice that was still choked up and muffled with tears, '
Into Opet this day a caravan from the
.' she hesitated, 'that piece is obscure but it goes on,
In fingers of fine gold one hundred and twenty-seven pieces, of which a tenth part unto
--'}

^{'What the hell is going on?' Louren demanded. 'What does all this mean?'}

^{I turned to him. 'It means we have found the archives of our city - completely intact and decipherable. We have the whole written history of our city, of our dead civilization, written by the people themselves in their own language. Their own words.'}

^{Louren was staring at me. It was clear that the significance of our discovery had not yet occurred to him.}

^{'This, Lo, is what every archaeologist prays for. This is proof in its most absolute form, in its most detailed and elaborate form.'}

^{He still didn't seem to understand.}

^{'In one line of writing we have proved conclusively the existence of a people who spoke and wrote the ancient Punic of Carthage, who traded gold, who called their city Opet, who--'}

^{'And that's only in one line of writing,' Sally interrupted. 'There are thousands of jars, each with its scroll of writings. We will know the names and deeds of their kings, their religion, their ceremonial--'}