The Death of the Mantis (35 page)

After a short conference, they decided to take the two vehicles
to follow Kubu’s tracks. They’d leave a note explaining what they
were doing, in case he returned.

Sergeant Mogale, the leader of the relief team, phoned Edison,
who was waiting with great anxiety for news. He briefly explained
what the situation was, and what they were planning.

“The director wants you to report every thirty minutes from now
on,” Edison said. “No exceptions! I think he’ll personally wring
your necks if you don’t. I’ve never seen him so worked up.”

♦

“Joy, this is Mabaku. The relief vehicles have reached where
Kubu last reported from. But they still haven’t heard from
him.”

Joy was so distraught, she couldn’t say anything.

“Joy, I know how you must be feeling, but there is nothing to
suggest something bad has happened. The vehicles have plenty of
food and water. Try to keep calm, and don’t think about it. Kubu is
a very resourceful man.”

When Joy put down the phone, she slumped into a chair. She was
exhausted. Not only was she sick with worry, but Tumi was crying
incessantly, no doubt affected by her mother’s anxiety.

I need help, Joy thought. She picked up the phone to ask
Pleasant to come over again.

♦

As the day wore on, so the temperatures rose. Even partially
shielded from the sun by the makeshift canopy, Kubu was intensely
uncomfortable.

“You have to keep your mind occupied, Kubu,” he said aloud,
trying to mimic the survival instructor’s British accent. “If you
don’t, you’ll go mad!”

He decided to hum all the arias he knew – he would have
preferred to sing them, but feared it would take too much energy, a
commodity in short supply. So for the next hour or so, the insects
of the Kalahari were treated to a collection of operatic
favourites.

“Am I going to make it?” Kubu wondered after his second encore.
He wasn’t feeling nearly as optimistic as on the previous day. That
morning he’d tried to imagine what Khumanego might have done after
driving away, to make rescue unlikely.

If it were me, Kubu thought, I’d circle back on my tracks until
I reached where we left the planned route. Then I’d hide the tracks
where we turned off and continue on as originally planned. After
several hours I’d hide the Land Rover and disappear.

This speculation depressed Kubu. It would be very difficult for
anyone to find him. They’ll drive right past where we turned, he
thought.

Perhaps I
should walk
out, he thought. If I walk at
night, it’ll be cool enough, and I should be able to see the tracks
in the moonlight.

And if I sleep in the day, I won’t lose too much water. And I’ll
be closer when they come for me.

Tjf they come, a little voice said.

“When they come,” he said out loud. “When they come! I’m going
to make it. I know how to survive.”

Even in his tired state, he was worried by the little sliver of
negativity that had insinuated itself into his brain. He realised
that dehydration was beginning to affect his thinking and
attitude.

He closed his eyes and tried to will his discomfort away.

♦

The searchers made their first call back to Edison, where Kubu,
Tau and Khumanego had made their first stop. It was easy to see the
footprints around the track.

They made their second call where Khumanego had persuaded them
to deviate from the planned route. No footprints left the area of
the vehicle. Still, they felt they were getting closer.

On the third call, they had nothing to report. The tracks seemed
to stretch out endlessly ahead of them. The fourth and fifth calls
were again the same. Nothing to be seen, except the tracks leading
them on.

On the sixth call, however, Director Mabaku was on the phone.
“Mogale, you need to pick up the pace. We’ve got to find them. It’s
been more than two days since they left the others.”

“Director, we’re going as fast as we can. It’s not easy out
here. They’re probably still with the vehicle, so they’ve got water
and food.”

“Try to go faster. I’m worried about them.”

The group took a short break, eating stale sandwiches and
drinking a lot of water. Then they set off again.

Almost exactly half an hour later, they saw Kubu’s Land
Rover.

They stopped several hundred metres away and approached
cautiously, weapons at the ready.

“Kubu! Tau!” Pikati shouted. “Are you there?”

No response.

“Kubu! Tau. Are you there?”

They spread out and moved ahead carefully. When they got to the
Land Rover, they saw there was nobody inside. Mogale immediately
called Edison, gave him their co-ordinates and told him what they’d
found.

“But no Kubu? None of them?”

“Not that we can see. But we’re going to look for footprints
now. I should be able to tell you, when we talk next.”

They spent the next thirty minutes scouring the area for clues
to what had happened. All they found, leading away from the Land
Rover into the desert, was a single trail of barefoot prints. Very
small.

“It has to be a Bushman,” Pikati said. “Maybe it’s
Khumanego.”

“But he had shoes! And where are the others, then?”

No one had an answer.

Mogale picked up the satellite phone. “I need to speak to
Director Mabaku,” he told Edison.

“He’s right here!”

It took a few minutes to explain
the
situation. “What
should we do now, Director? Should we follow the footprints? Should
we go back?”

Mabaku thought for a few seconds. “If you’re sure the footprints
aren’t Kubu’s or Tau’s, don’t worry about them right now. Drive
back to the other Land Rover and keep a close lookout for
footprints next to the track. They must’ve left the vehicle
somewhere along the way. You found some already, but maybe you
missed some too. If you don’t find any others, spend some time
where you
did
find them. Search all around the area. There
has to be an easy explanation. If none of that works, I’ll have a
helicopter go to your camp first thing in the morning. Maybe it’ll
see something you can’t.”

♦

When Mabaku told Joy that they had found Kubu’s Land Rover, but
he wasn’t with it, she dropped the phone and burst into tears.
Pleasant put her arm around her sister and picked up the phone to
speak to the director.

“Director Mabaku. This is Joy’s sister, Pleasant. I’ll stay with
Joy until you find Kubu. She’s not taking it very well.”

“Thank you, Pleasant. If you need any help, please say so. Any
shopping, a police psychologist, anything. All you have to do is
ask. But please try to reassure Joy. There’s nothing to indicate
that anything has happened to Kubu.”

♦

The temperature was over forty degrees under the little tree
where Kubu lay on his back, but he wasn’t sweating nearly as much
as he had the previous day. He felt very lethargic and didn’t want
to get up and walk around. I’ll wait till it’s cooler, he
thought.

He knew he was losing water fast. When he’d urinated that
morning, the liquid was a dark orange-brown – a sure sign of
dehydration. He resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t find
anything to eat or drink, and hoped his body knew it could feed off
his fat for nourishment. Maybe my extra kilograms can be put to
good use after all, he thought.

♦

It took the two Land Rovers over four hours to get back to the
camp. They hadn’t seen any additional footprints on the way. And
they had found nothing useful at the two spots where they’d;
previously seen footprints. To all intents and purposes, Kubu and
Tau had disappeared into thin air. And maybe Khumanego had too.

It was a very worried Mogale who made the final report to Mabaku
for the day. “We need the helicopter,” he said. “We’ve done
everything we can. There’s no sign of them.”

Mabaku promised to send the BDF helicopter as early as possible
the next morning to where they were camped. They should stay there
until it arrived.

♦

Mabaku stopped in at Kubu’s house on his way home on Sunday
evening.

“You shouldn’t have let him go!” Joy cried. “You know it was
dangerous. You should’ve told him to stay here. You know we’ve a
new baby. Someone else could’ve gone.”

Mabaku nodded guiltily. “You’re probably right, Joy. But we
weighed all the factors, and thought it was worth doing. Still, we
don’t know what’s happened. We’ve got a helicopter going there
first thing in the morning. It can cover a much bigger area much
more quickly. I’m confident that it will answer all our questions
and find Kubu.”

Joy was not consoled.

♦

On Monday morning, Kubu had lost track of how many nights he had
spent in the desert. Was it three or four? He didn’t really care.
He didn’t stand up when the sky started lightening in the east. It
took too much effort.

He decided just to lie where he was all day. Conserve energy.
But then he wondered if he should walk back along the tracks and
get help. It couldn’t be too far. After all, they had driven there
in only a couple of hours. But it was too much trouble, and he
drifted back to sleep. He dreamt he could glide, if only he could
work up enough speed to get airborne. There had to be thermals in
the desert.

♦

The helicopter arrived at about one p.m. with two additional
policemen. There had been a delay due to a technical problem, which
had infuriated Mabaku, who had again come in to work at six a.m.
The director instructed Mogale, Pikati and Moeng to go with the
chopper directly to Kubu’s Land Rover and to search the area once
more for clues. The others were to retrace their tracks on the
ground and look again for signs that people had left the
vehicle.

It took about forty-five minutes for the helicopter to get to
the Land Rover. The pilot found a place to land and for the next
two hours they painstakingly searched the area once again. They
found nothing of interest. They photographed the Bushman
footprints, although they knew they couldn’t use footprints for
identification. But doing it made them feel more useful.

Eventually Mabaku ordered them to fly back directly over the
tracks to look for anything unusual. He was beginning to feel
despondent. He should never have allowed Kubu to go, he kept
telling himself. If something had happened to them, it would be his
fault.

The pilot told Mabaku he was going to Tsabong to refuel and
would follow the tracks first thing in the morning. Despite
Mabaku’s angry spluttering that people’s lives were at stake, the
pilot insisted, saying that the director didn’t want more people
missing in the Kalahari.

Even Mabaku realised the good sense in that.

♦

Kubu was fading. It was now more than three days without food or
water. His body was crying out for sustenance, and his mind was
slowly slipping into a state of not caring. Every now and again he
would rally and try to do something to keep his focus on survival.
As he was lying there, handkerchief over his face, a childhood song
crept into his mind.

Good King Wenslus last looked out

On the feast of Stephen.

Snowball hit him on the snout;

Made it all uneven.

Brightly shone his nose that night,

And the pain was cruel,

Then the doctor came in sight,

Riding on a mule.

Kubu giggled. He even remembered the boy at the Maru a Pula
school who had taught him the song. He recalled being shocked at
first, thinking it sacrilegious.

Another song that he’d treasured as a young boy floated into his
head. He’d thought it so rude that he’d protected it like a
valuable jewel, sharing it only with a few.

Hey diddle diddle,

The dog did a piddle,

Right in the middle

Of the floor.

The little cat laughed

To see such sport,

And the dog did a little drop more.

Kubu snorted, remembering how he had pulled his friends into the
toilet and sung them the song in a whisper, petrified that one of
the teachers would hear him.

Then, from even deeper in his mind, came a familiar nursery
rhyme.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the king’s horses

And all the king’s men

Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

A shiver went down Kubu’s spine. As the song spun through his
head, he pictured Humpty falling off a wall. And he was Humpty.

♦

It was a haggard Mabaku who arrived at Joy’s door on Monday
evening. “Joy. The helicopter spent the day around Kubu’s Land
Rover, but found nothing. There were some Bushman footprints, but
nothing else. So it seems that Kubu and Tau left the vehicle
somewhere else. We don’t know whether the footprints were
Khumanego’s or of some other Bushman in the area. The men couldn’t
tell how long they had been there.”

Joy turned away and put her head in her hands. Mabaku could see
her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. In an uncharacteristic move,
he put his arm around her shoulders and patted her.

“The helicopter is going to retrace the tracks again. There has
to be some sign of what happened. We’ll find them even if it means
my men walk the entire way. I’m sure we’ll have news soon.”

♦

On Tuesday morning, the helicopter started flying along the
vehicle tracks at first light. It flew about thirty metres above
the ground – low enough to make out detail, but high enough to see
a reasonable distance on either side. It was tedious work – staring
at the ground, looking for anything that might provide a clue to
the disappearance of the two policemen.

Suddenly Moeng shouted from the back seat: “Hold it. I think
I’ve seen something.”

He directed the pilot back about fifty metres and pointed away
from the tracks.